


You'd Be So Nice To Come Home To

by GreenWhale



Category: One Piece
Genre: Accidental Drug Use, Accidents, Angst, Bad Flirting, Bittersweet, Comfort, Domestic, Drinking, First Kiss, Flowers, Fluff, Hair, Hair Washing, Hands, Hurt/Comfort, Intimacy, M/M, Massage, Mutual Pining, Non-Sexual Body Worship, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Post-Time Skip, Rating May Change, Reading, Scars, Sharing Body Heat, Shoes, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Smoking, Snow, Snowball Fight, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-01-05 11:29:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 45,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12189147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenWhale/pseuds/GreenWhale
Summary: A domestic exploration of affection and attraction.  This is a series of moments between Sanji and Usopp that build slowly (and I mean slowly).  Not for those looking for a quick release, but for those who want a languid stroll through love.   Updates are set for Sundays - at this point, it's every two weeks or so (working sucks~).





	1. Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood

**Author's Note:**

> Title of the work is from Nina Simone's "You'd Be So Nice To Come Home To"
> 
> This work has no beta-reader, and all mistakes are a product of my own poor editing.

Usopp didn’t mean to end up following Sanji, but he seemed lost behind a bloody nose and flirtatious smiles when Usopp tried to call out to him. The optician was closed, so with no plans and no Luffy, he figured he could help Sanji carry foodstuffs and instinctively followed. When Sanji lingered before a jeweler, Usopp stopped to watch. He couldn’t place why he stopped, only that he felt it wasn’t right to interfere at that moment.

Sanji’s face followed a familiar pattern from heart eyes to a lecherous smile but then it moved to a more somber and soft expression – something akin to yearning and not glorification. Usopp’s chest tightened at the longing he saw there. Sanji straightened up and headed on, done with his window-shopping.

Usopp continues his pursuit, curious to know what had formed the latter expression. While Usopp was passing the jewelry display, he found himself imagining Sanji dressing up Nami and Robin in layers of precious gemstones with cords of silver and gold. He laughed to himself, but at the same time was put off by the other’s continued obsession with aesthetic beauty. Nothing in the display indicated to Usopp anything to induce the cook’s longing expression, so he turned instead to where Sanji had disappeared.   Conflicted with himself and Sanji’s expression, he moved beyond the building, surprised to find a shoe store.

The front was open to the sun through clear glass, as shoes hung from the ceiling to floor, waving through a neutral pallet of leathers. He stopped in the doorway and watched as Sanji conversed with an old man. The cook shifted his weight from front to back, looking down at his shoes and then back up at the man. He never removed his hands from his pockets, and Usopp watched – as always – in awe at the man’s unparalleled balance. The stability of his body and the placement of his equilibrium were unequaled in his eyes, due in part to his physique and training, but in Usopp’s mind, it was installed at birth, a natural gift. After a few minutes, the old man pulled out a short stool and offered it to Sanji.

Unsure of what to do Usopp tried to slink behind the sliver of wood around the doorframe and the window, trying his best not to get caught; he felt voyeuristic and ashamed he was being so obvious. Sanji’s lithe body sank onto the stool with ease, and the strength behind his quads pushed against his trousers. Usopp watched, enchanted by the contours of his legs. His years of running and training and kicking had enhanced the muscles of his legs and torso.

He couldn't call out for fear of interrupting the two, but at the same time, he could not bring himself to walk away as Sanji lifted one leg, and rested it on the opposite knee. His hands worked deftly at the laces in his shoes.

The scars over Sanji’s knuckles mirrored the fine creases in his black leather cap toes. Usopp remembered once, stumbling upon Sanji much like he was now.

He sat aboard the Sunny, a cigarette pressed between his teeth as he worked a conditioner into his shoes. He sat barefooted, socks draping over his thighs, jacket removed and resting over the back of his chair. The tendons in his feet rippled just beneath the surface of his skin, a skin so extremely pale that the translucent quality could have misled him into thinking they were delicate if he did not know their capacity for brutality.

But he worked just as diligently and just as concentrated as if he were making food for the crew. These shoes were not just an accessory, but also a companion, and like his crew, these shoes deserved sustenance.

He did not sit at the table, a place for dining or recuperating only, but next to a window, where he stopped occasionally to flick his ash into the wind. His shirtsleeves had been rolled up, and his hands massaged the oil with a stained cloth. His hair fell over more of his face, and Usopp let himself linger in the doorway longer than he expected – thinking himself hidden, watching as Sanji’s wrists rolled and as the knuckles pressed deeply. Every so often Sanji would flex and then curl his toes as if they were testing their newfound freedom.

His pants revealed pale ankles with light hair, Usopp watched as the movements of his feet changed the pattern in his ankles.

“Is he with you?” He heard the old man question Sanji.

Pulled away from the lines of Sanji’s ankle, Usopp tired to slither behind the door again. He could still see Sanji, and when Sanji turned his exposed eye briefly expanded before returning to stoic calm.

“Well, come on in,” the owner called, waving towards Usopp.

“I didn’t mean-I was just-I don’t have—”

“Just come in, Usopp,” Sanji interrupted.

Usopp’s mouth snapped shut as he shuffled in, head tilted towards his chest, eyes looking all around. He stopped behind Sanji and could smell the lingering trace of cigarette smoke in his hair.

“Are you in need of new shoes as well?”

Usopp shook his head, suddenly very self-conscious of his stalking.

"Well, you can be an assistant then."

“I don’t know anything about-“

“You’ll just hold things when I need you to,” the old man stated as he held out a pad of paper to and a pencil attached to a block of wood. “Don’t lose that now”

He rolled a chair from behind a sewing machine and sat down close to Sanji. Sanji finished untying his first shoe and held it out towards the old man. Usopp could see the same muscles and tendons behind the thin layer of his striped sock.

“A lot of damage to the foxing and vamp, less so to the quarters. You do a lot of kicking, son?” Sanji nodded and the old man returned to examining the shoes. “You’ve had these a long time, a lot longer than I would expect for shoes that have seen so much. You’ve taken great care of them.”

“I place great care into providing for those close to me.” He turned to look at Usopp over his shoulder.

“A wise sentiment,” the old man agreed.

Sanji said nothing as he lifted his other leg to remove the shoe. Usopp watched again, taking in the minute muscles of Sanji’s knuckles. He held his ankle as he removed the shoe, careful with each move he made. This shoe was worse than the other, the heel was worn down, and the inside arch was pulling away from the sole.

He passed this shoe on. The cobbler inspected this shoe just as carefully, saying nothing as he rotated it in his hands, pulling at the tongue, pressing into each seam, bending the shoe this way and that.

“Will you be looking for a custom pair of shoes or something off the wall?”

“How long would you need to complete a custom pair?”

“How long do you have?”

“How long do you need?”

“I can get them done in two days, with the right about of money. Stand up.”

Sanji stood. His body closer to Usopp’s now. Usopp didn’t realize how close he had been, or how small this shop really was. The trio was all well within arms reach of one another, and the protruding footwear tapped towards them. He could feel Sanji’s body radiating heat towards him.

“Paper, assistant.”

Usopp, tense and caught off guard ripped the first piece in half. Sanji turned towards him and his normally light eyes felt dark with concealed laughter. His attempt at the second piece faired no better. Finally, his third attempt succeeded.

The old man chuckled as he took the paper. “You’d make a terrible assistant.”

He leaned down and rolled up the cuff of Sanji’s pants.

“Lift your right foot.”

Sanji’s hand came up and rested itself on Usopp’s shoulder. Usopp stood unnaturally straight and stiff. The heat and strength from Sanji’s hand could be felt in the gentle press as he shifted his weight onto one foot.

The old man pushed the paper under Sanji’s foot and told him to stand normally, and to not look down.  But Usopp did.  He could see the outline of each toe, and the way Sanji's feet planted themselves into the ground; always prepared to take off if needed.  The elder asked for the pencil in Usopp’s hand but caught off guard by Sanji’s presence, Usopp didn’t hear him. He moved his focus from the feet to the heat from Sanji's hand, weighing him in place.  He continued past the hand on his shoulder. 

"Usopp," Sanji whispered.  He turned towards Sanji with wide eyes.  “The pencil?” Sanji elaborated, rolling his eyes towards the other man’s outstretched hand.

Usopp slapped the wood into the palm.

“Yep, a terrible assistant,” Sanji said, turning away from Usopp. “It’s worse than your hiding.”

Usopp straightened up, even more, wondering how long Sanji had known he was there.

The old man traced a line around Sanji’s foot, compared the wooden block against the height, scribbled some numbers and then asked Sanji to lift his foot again. The hand on Usopp’s shoulder tightened briefly in solidarity and in comfort.

Usopp focused on feeling his body noticing the gentle sway he had forwards and back, side to side. His balance hardly as strong as Sanji’s, whose hand never once increased or decreased in pressure, was firm yet soft and stayed steady. He didn’t need Usopp to steady himself. Yet his hand rested gently on Usopp.

The cobbler repeated all the steps on the other foot. And Usopp thought only of Sanji’s warm fingers.

“Will you want another pair of cap toes?”

"That would be preferable," Sanji answered as his hand slid off of Usopp’s shoulder, his fingers whispering along his bicep. Usopp was used to Sanji’s minor physical contact, reveling in the experience of closeness with the cook who was more often separate from others, but then, the path of his fingers felt different, less casual and more direct.  And in that moment, Usopp realized how often he reached out for Sanji and how often the other was reaching out for him. How in some way they were trying to connect and missing more often than they collided.

Sanji squared off with the cobbler, paying enough to get the shoes in two days and together they exited the store.

Sanji lingered at the jewelry display again. Usopp stopped next to him and tried to find the path that Sanji’s eyes were making. The cook pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one. He took a long drag and let out a slow exhale.

His face grew soft again and he smiled gently.

Usopp leaned in closer; afraid he was missing something vital. “What?” he asked, pressing in nearer to Sanji.

“Just admiring.” His voice was pliant and playful.

“Are you thinking of getting a gift for Nami or Robin?” He turned towards Sanji.

Sanji looked towards Usopp; there was something lingering behind his smile as he watched Usopp - it was troubled yet expectant.

“I was just thinking about how glorious gold looks on dark skin.”

Usopp stared at Sanji for a moment. Then he thought of the expression from earlier and turned back towards the exhibited items. He pictured Sanji adorning Nami with the multi-layered golden necklace that would sink low into her cleavage, her new tan glowing in tandem with the warmth of the metal around her neck. Then he thought of Robin wearing the more simple and geometric design against her darker skin and inky hair, how it would play hide-and-seek from behind her dark tresses. He nodded along as if finally understanding Sanji. They both would look very beautiful. Usopp was moved by Sanji’s thoughtfulness.

Sanji closed off his features and leaned back from Usopp – where he allowed a small divide to crease their shared space. Sanji stepped into a trap he placed by being elusive, and possibly too eager, so he reigned himself in as he looked towards Usopp once again.  The other seemed to notice a shift in the atmosphere, but when Sanji encased Usopp’s forearm to pull him along, the other easily slipped in step. His hand fell away, but for a moment his knuckles brushed Usopp’s as they walked and the crease he made was ironed out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of Chapter is from Nina Simone's "Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood"
> 
> All comments and kudos are preciously remembered.


	2. The Human Touch

Usopp had broken fingers before, jammed knuckles, and bruised tendons, but this time he couldn’t move any digit on his right hand. It was only for a week, Chopper ordered, so healing could be the most beneficial, but it took some getting used to. He couldn’t eat properly and that sent Luffy rolling, making Usopp grumpy. He couldn’t hold tools, so he couldn’t work, and that made him grumpier. He was kicked out of the kitchen for getting in the way and shattering some – many – plates, instructed to leave when he dropped some – numerous – jars of medicine and was sent to see someone else while Nami was drawing her maps. So he loitered a lot, trying his best to not get in anyone’s way as he nursed his sore hand.

But the days were long, and boring, as everyone seemed to avoid him; at moments, physically painful, as he often forgot about his fingers and tried to use them as usual. Reaching for falling objects and feeling the weight along each knuckle. Clapping his hands together in laughter only to ignite each damaged nerve. He got along well enough with simple tasks until he was about ready to take a bath and the tie holding back his hair broke. In an instant, his dark hair billowed around him.

He watched as the band shot away and fell down the ladder he spent too long trying to climb. He scowled at it and huffed, pressing the mitt he called his hand under his hair as he used the other to try and pull it together. The strands rolled and rocked like the ocean during a storm, and his flat palm was as helpful as prayers to control the influence of his hair.

He chased the curls around, trying to find a cluster to wrap the others together, but each attempt he made to hold the hair with his bound appendage, the more the curls got away.

As he was getting progressively angrier, the door from the toilet pushed open. He stopped. Sanji stood there, with a lit cigarette and downcast eyes. When he sensed he was not alone he looked up to see Usopp’s arms disappearing into a mass of dark curls. He came to a halt. Sanji hadn’t fully realized how much hair Usopp really had and was amazed by how voluminous it was; how striking curly hair could be – the majesty.  

“What’re you doing?” Sanji asked, watching the curls move as Usopp breathed and fidgeted.

“I’m trying to take a bath.”

“With that hand?”

“Well, I didn’t plan on this.”

“What was your plan?”

“Not to wash my hair.”

Sanji stepped forward and gave the other a gentle sniff. “Not a great plan.”

Usopp groaned.

“Do you have another?” Sanji asked, offering a sliver of accommodation.

Usopp reached into a pocket and pulled one out. He started to hold it out but withdrew his hand. “Why?”

Sanji rolled his eyes.

Usopp stood motionless, then squinted at Sanji but set the tie in the other’s outstretched palm. Sanji plucked the small red band and made a motion for Usopp to turn around.

Following the trajectory of the finger, Usopp tilted his head back instinctively.

Softly Sanji’s thumb ran along the base of Usopp’s skull. He tensed, wondering if perhaps this was a trap, after knocking over some – many – of the cutlery in the kitchen, maybe this was payback. He started to pull away.

Sanji grabbed the hair, “Don’t jerk away.”

“Don’t pull my hair.” Usopp turned sharply.

Sanji tugged at his hair playfully this time before releasing the cluster. He ran his thumb along the hairline on Usopp’s neck, pulling the right side of his hair into his hand. With his other hand, Usopp could feel Sanji try to comb his fingers along his scalp as he collected the waves that attempted to make their escape.

“You can’t run your fingers through my hair like that.”

“I’m finding that out,” Sanji said, learning the terrain of curly hair.

Then as soon as he had started he was done.

Sanji pulled the collection tight, chuckling as Usopp winced.

“Must you always manhandle me?”

“Must you always complain?”

Usopp huffed and returned to undressing. He could hear Sanji behind him, unbuttoning his shirt and undoing his belt.

“What’re you doing?” He turned towards the other while covering his chest.

“I’m going to bathe.”

“Together?”

“Yeah.” Sanji cocked his head in confusion. “Why not?”

His usual unconsciousness was disrupted by his lame hand as he was suddenly hyper-aware of his inability to use said hand and what that meant for his grooming habits. Before, he would unabashedly share a washroom with another person, but now he faltered. He would gladly fumble his way around by himself, but being the weak link made him nervous and critical.

Usopp looked towards the ladder and felt unmotivated to climb down. He knew he should tell Sanji he would like to bath alone, and the other would wordlessly comply, but instead, he finished undressing, folded his clothes and pushed the door open ahead of the other. Resolved to not let this affect him, Usopp pulled up a stool before the first tap. He was grateful for the removable showerhead.

Usopp had always considered himself to be skillfully ambidextrous, but he was slowly coming to terms with how limited he really was. His fingers weren’t as flexible, his grip was strong but less accurate, and he had a slower reaction time overall. It was easy enough for him to lather up a towel, but his bandages were a chronic reminder to be neat and he became hyper-vigilant to keep the material dry – Chopper was now short enough on supplies until their next stop.

Sanji entered not too long after, and Usopp was always in awe of the fine hair. Compared to his own thick hair, it was always something of a sight to see. Sanji was missing small patches of hair along his arms, where burns dotted his skin. His chest hair was sparse and mostly only noticeable when wet. His leg hair was delicate over his thighs, and more evident around his calves.

Usopp grasped the cloth in his hand, intent to focus on his cleaning, but due to his limited mobility and reluctance to get his hand wet, he mostly grunted and planned the best course of action. Starting and stopping and starting again. He could manage most easily enough, but his back was patchy and his left arm was all but hopeless. Usopp scrubbed at his legs where the hair was thick and long. He watched the path water took as the stream parted trails as he rinsed.

The room was void of sound after he washed off and curiously, Usopp turned to see Sanji looking over at him, his body still mostly dry.

“What?” Usopp whined. “Why’re you staring at me?”

“Do you want help?”

“I’m fine.”

“With your hair?” Sanji corrected

Usopp narrowed his eyes at the blonde. “Why?”

“Why?” He barked. “So it’s clean.”

“I’ll be fine,” Usopp turned away from the other and began to collect his soap. He felt warm water descend on his head. Turning in surprise, he took a face full of water as Sanji pointed the showerhead directly at Usopp.

“Stop that.” He snapped, holding his bandaged hand aloft and standing up so forcefully he knocked his stool over.

“Careful,” Sanji warned, “it’s dangerous to move too quickly on a wet floor.” He pointed the showerhead down, monsooning the surrounding tiles. He reached with his leg and kicked the discarded stool upright before scooting it towards Usopp. The other watched this progression and with some grumbling sat back down, facing away from Sanji.

“Move closer,” Sanji demanded, spritzing Usopp. The water shocked Usopp and he shivered as it ran down his back. Usopp skidded the stool backward until he felt Sanji’s knees.

“Tip your head back.”

Usopp responded by looking up. The brown ceiling was as neutral as he wished to be, but he felt more troubled than calm. He didn’t want to be a burden to the crew, and he wanted to regain the use of all of his digits. After the week he could start moving his fingers again, but that was still half a week away.

“It’s all right,” Sanji said as if he could hear Usopp’s concerns.

Sanji’s fingers reached up and pulled the hair tie back off, releasing it with gentle fluffs. The deft fingers blocked the water from running into Usopp’s eyes as Sanji massaged the showerhead against his hairline. The warm water relaxed Usopp’s neck and shoulders, his head pressing into Sanji’s hands. The other man continued to wet his hair.

Usopp was unaware his head had slipped forward until Sanji gently placed both his hands against his temples and guided it back. The shampoo Sanji used was his personal brand and the lemongrass scent was a home Usopp knew well. He did his best to remain present, to keep from slipping away into the sensations, but the more Sanji’s fingers moved in and out of his hair, and over his scalp, the more his head slipped forward again.

Each time, Sanji silently and carefully pulled him back. ~~~~

Sanji wrapped each curl with devotion, starting around Usopp’s crown. He worked to find and detangle the mass of dark curls, making sure each strand was tended to, and each tangle freed from its bind. Along the way, he massaged Usopp’s scalp to keep tension from building as he worked out particularly difficulty knots.

Usopp winced, as unaccustomed Sanji pulled too brashly at a knot close to Usopp’s neck.

“Sorry,” Sanji whispered, suddenly aware of how quiet they both were.

“It’s okay,” Usopp’s reply was tender.

Sanji rubbed the pad of his thumb along the skin he injured. Usopp’s eyes closed. He let out a contented breath – it was nice to be pampered – to trust and be trusted.

Sanji guided Usopp’s head back and aligned the showerhead against his scalp. He washed the remaining soap from Usopp’s hair, watching as the mane bounced and danced with the fall of water – he became entranced by the waving hair and its glossy appearance. Each cluster had its own personality and voice. The perfect curl next to his right ear that was playful. The loose wave above his left eye who was flirty. A half-formed spring above his shoulder blade with a quirky tone. The row of tight coils along his neck – protective.

Sanji turned the water off and wrung the extra from Usopp’s hair.

When he was done he patted Usopp on the shoulder to signal his task complete.

“Ah,” Usopp stuttered, as he could feel Sanji preparing to leave him. He turned around to catch Sanji standing. “Could I-” he began, unsure what he really wanted. “Could I – I mean that is – could I touch your hair?” He felt a rush of blood to his face.

Sanji smiled and laughed softly, then sat back down. His eyes scanned Usopp’s face, noting the flush on his cheeks. Usopp reached out and awkwardly patted Sanji on the head, and they both laughed as they sat knee to knee ~~.~~

He slowly ran his hand down Sanji’s dry hair, brushing his thumb over Sanji’s ear accidentally – the other shivered. He continued the motion down his head, trailing his fingers over the short hair on his nape, cataloging the differences in texture. Ill contented and surprised by the silkiness he leaned forward and tracked the same path down the back of Sanji’s head.

The other bowed towards Usopp, as his fingers made their decent over the back of Sanji’s neck. Usopp rolled each finger over the protruding vertebra in his neck. Responding on instinct, Usopp brought his fingers around to Sanji’s forehead where he lined his fingers up with the other man’s hairline and pressed his nails along Sanji’s scalp, pushing his hair back, exposing Sanji’s entire face. ~~~~

His hand stopped. Sanji’s eyes were closed and Usopp became hypnotized by the spiral eyebrows. Memorizing the curves of Sanji’s brow, Usopp’s hand descended slowly until he cupped Sanji’s cheek.

Sanji’s eyes opened when he felt the warmth of Usopp’s calloused palm against his face. He saw Usopp’s brown eyes looking just above his own. As the hand rested against him Sanji became aware of how little contact he has had in his life recently and how right Usopp’s hand felt against his cheek, so he gave weight to his head in order to feel the other more fully, wishing he would continue to stroke his hair.

Usopp reached with his thumb and started at the beginning of Sanji’s eyebrow and traced the pattern. Sanji closed his eyes again. When Usopp reached the end of the trail he stiffened and pulled his hand away from Sanji, suddenly aware of himself.

“I’m sor—“

Sanji grabbed the wrist that had drawn away. “Please,” he said. “Just a little while longer.”

Usopp swallowed his response and reached out once again. Silently he combed Sanji’s hair with his fingers. Feeling as the other leaned into his touch like a cat. Usopp rolled some of the strands around his fingers, watching as they refused to curl. He felt a faint drag of knuckle against his shin, and heard a muttered, “beautiful.”

Usopp faltered for a moment, but just as quickly as the hand had been there it disappeared. When he looked towards Sanji he saw redness along his cheeks and on the top of his ear. A heat coiled in Usopp’s chest and he smiled.

He continued until Sanji’s hand came up and encircled his wrist.

“Thank you,” Sanji whispered, removing Usopp’s hand.

“You’re welcome,” Usopp whispered in return. “Thank you for washing my hair.”

Sanji looked up, his features still dusted with pink, as he smiled. “Anytime.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of Chapter is from Nina Simone's "The Human Touch"
> 
> Thank you all for your comments and kudos!


	3. That's All I Want From You

Usopp was enjoying the calm that was few and far between as they moved along the New World. Luffy was chasing Chopper along the deck in some training that was more a mimicry of horsing around than actual guidance while Robin was enjoying a book with the sun as Franky was tinkering around below deck whereas Zoro was meditating – or sleeping – sometimes Usopp couldn’t tell the difference. The kitchen was softly enveloped by Brook’s gentle violin and Nami’s scratching quill as she jotted down notes and insights and general information that Usopp didn’t really care to sit next to.

So he sat at the bar, twirling a teacup in its saucer, watching as Sanji leaned against the counter while smoking. The man placed the cigarette between his lips and Usopp watched the path his fingers traveled from the counter before him to his mouth. His knuckles hugged the cigarette for a moment before trailing back down to the counter next to a cookbook open before him.

Usopp had seen the collection of books in passing but had never actively witnessed Sanji studying their contents. He didn’t know if any of the books were new or if the collections had followed him from East Blue. But as Sanji perused the pages he had a different air about him, a pensive and contented attitude – a look Usopp was unfamiliar with but receptive to. Sanji slid his fingers along the edge of the book in a considerate way, as if he covenanted the contents for their wisdom, thanking them for their knowledge.

His other hand reached for the cigarette in his mouth where his muscle memory kicked in, knocking the ash off without looking for the tray. He blew the smoke away from the book and away from Usopp, thoughtful of his tablemates. His long fingers tapped the cigarette again, and he returned it to his lips. They accepted the cigarette with a soft hug, as the smoke wafted up and away, drifting past his hair and dissipating into the air. The hand trailed back down to the opposite page, and his long middle finger lifted the corner of the page.

His first finger followed and pinned the paper against the other. Subconsciously Sanji rubbed the side of his digit from tip to knuckle – the finger moved up and down the same path as if on a loop.

Usopp turned away and spun the cup once more before taking the last sip. The few drops sank into his stomach flatly; the tepid tea cringe-worthy and his face crinkled in automatically. No one ever told him he was hard to read. The teapot rested on the tray just before him and without thinking, he reached for it.

But as his fingers connected with the handle, Sanji’s hand rested on his, stopping him instantly.

“Please,” Sanji spoke as Usopp’s eyes traced the back of the hand before him, noticing the fair hair along his fingers and the protruding knuckles. “It’s my job as the host to pour the tea.” Sanji’s hand rubbed down his. At Usopp’s wrist, Sanji’s long fingers wrapped around gently but firmly, disconnecting his hand and positioning it on the counter. As Sanji pulled back he draped his fingers along Usopp’s.

With a practiced ease, he poured tea into the empty cup before Usopp and filled in milk and sugar before whisking himself towards Brook and Nami. The diligent host. The perfect server. The chivalrous cook.

The music wavered for a moment as Brook courteously thanked him and Nami smiled her thanks. The scratching came to a stop when she picked up her cup to take a small break. Sanji engaged the two after producing a cup for himself and taking a seat before Nami at the table built for many. The smoke trailed behind finding Usopp and wrapping tightly around his body, leaving a lingering trail from one man to the other.

Usopp could feel the route left behind by Sanji’s hand, could make out the tips’ trace as if the touch left tracks behind. He reached out with the opposite hand and wrapped his fingers around the cup and proceeded to drink the warm liquid. Like always the tea was perfectly steeped, and the mixture of milk and sugar was exactly as Usopp enjoyed it, and the warmth melted small pieces of Usopp back into place. The power of food was something Usopp had little knowledge over, having spent most of his life alone, creating only simple meals for himself.

Ever since the crew reassembled after their two-year absence, and the island of surplus he inhabited, Usopp really began to understand how Sanji’s mastery had magnified, and that understanding becomes awareness to the influence that food and friendship could have over a person.

Usopp sat and felt all the movements the ship made as it waved in the water, how the boat teetered just slightly so that even when he was still he was in motion. He listened to the soft melodies of Brook’s violin mixed with the gentle conversation at the table behind him. Lulled by the sea, by the music, and by the waning warmth in his hand, Usopp slipped into a simple routine of mindfulness where he lived only to drink his tea.

Soon the cup was empty and his hand found itself tracing the path that Sanji’s had left behind. He tried to recreate the sensation in his mind, to figure out if those fingers had been rough from the manual labor and pocked scars of small burns, or if they were soft from the soap he used for cleaning. The sincerity of Sanji’s movements as he prepared and adorned meals gave life to those hands, a vigor then passed on to each person he presented food to – to each person he touched.

What would those hands feel like in longer moments? Usopp wondered as he spun the cup around again, feeling the porcelain beneath his fingers, cool and smooth. Would they be firm presses as one kneads dough or with whispered touches as one decorates a cake?

He found that the touch would be hot. Sanji stepped up next to him, resting his hand between Usopp’s shoulder blades under his hair – skin on skin. He leaned in so he could fill Usopp’s cup from next to him, pressing his hip into Usopp’s side. He leaned for cream and sugar – dashing and sprinkling the three together.

Sanji then reached over the other to retrieve his book and ashtray, nestling in next to Usopp. The hand slipped away and warmth spread along his side as the cook took a seat. He was closer than necessary, but not too far away to be separate: their usual distance. The music’s pace lounged around the two of them, and when Usopp looked over his shoulder he saw that Nami had disappeared, and Brook’s back was to the pair.

“Are you alright?” Sanji inquired, never quite turning away from his book.

Usopp hummed a noncommittal tone. “Just pensive, I suppose.”

“I’m surprised you have enough brain for that.”

Usopp gaped at the man next to him, but the other’s tight grin gave away his insincerity. Usopp bumped shoulders with Sanji. Sanji collides with Usopp in return, but instead of drifting away again, he stayed leaning against the other. He pulled a cigarette from his jacket, and Usopp watched the fingers strike a match while the other hand protected the flame. There were small, faint scars along most of his fingers, but on the moon of Sanji’s left hand, there was a keloidal scar, drifting up and under his sleeve.

As soon as Sanji waved the light out, Usopp reached out and grasped the other’s hand in his own. He rotated the palm until the scar peered back at him.

“How did you get this scar?” Usopp asked, running two fingers over the mass of tissue. He pressed on, pushing back the sleeve to see it end almost above his pulse point.

“Have you ever heard the expression that leaving your fingers exposed is the surest way to turn a white onion into a red onion?” Sanji scooted closer so his twisted palm wasn’t so severe, closing in their distance. He pressed the cigarette to his lips as Usopp traced the scar absentmindedly.

Usopp shook his head. Then stopped. He turned towards Sanji with a creased brow. “What do fingertips have to do with this palm?”

“It’s a quote about carelessness.” Sanji watched as Usopps’ calloused fingertips traced the sensitive skin around his wrist. They were warm and familiar, as Sanji realized just how often he touched or was touched by Usopp lately. They shared space frequently and often grazed each other in passing. Drifting hands as they passed one another. Drunken arms as they stumbled back to the Sunny together. High-fives. Fist bumps. Lingering fingers when Sanji handed something off. Normally he left gaps between himself and others, but around Usopp, he washed in close, waves against the shore.

“What were you careless about?”

“A knife.”

“Casually evasive.” He pouted.

“There is no handle on a dropped knife.”

“Why would you try to catch a dropped knife?”

“Instinct.” Sanji took a drag of his cigarette. “It was a lot harder for me to stop myself when I was younger.”

“Just when you were younger?”

Sanji laughed. Usopp’s hand never left Sanji’s and in time silence settled like dust between them. Usopp moved on from the scar on his palm, and traveled forth, leaving Sanji behind to watch as he made minor pit stops at each dip and bump. The hand was inspected and tended to as Usopp’s fingers left a protective barrier in their wake. Like the sniper he was, Sanji knew he would always be watched, always be protected, and he relished that feeling.

While they sat together, anchored by scars and music, the world washed away. Eventually Usopp failed to recognize Brook’s violin, and instead heard only the soft inhale and controlled exhale of Sanji smoking – the small crackle of his cigarette burning, and the silken sounds of his skin on Sanji’s.

He flipped the hand over and traced the veins with his fingers, pressed into the valleys of his tendons, felt the contained weight of his muscular hand.

The door swung open and Luffy cried for food. Neither moved, but both began to pull apart.

“Do you know what the quote is really about?” Sanji asked, pulling his hand free, instantly missing the attention.

Usopp shook his head, his hands lingering in the air, tentatively reaching for the other.

“Vulnerability,” he whispered as he stood up, picking up the teapot and stepping away before Usopp could see his face before he could see Usopp’s reaction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of Chapter is from Nina Simone's "That's All I Want From You"
> 
> Thanks to those returning. Hello to those just arriving. Your support does not go unnoticed or unappreciated.


	4. Exactly Like You

Usopp stumbled upon Sanji late one night, or possibly early for Sanji when he found he couldn’t sleep. There was only a small light on in the kitchen, and Sanji was barefoot while lounging on the couch beneath it. The cook was reclined into the comfort of a book. He silently puffed away on a cigarette and didn’t seem to notice Usopp in the doorway.

Silently, Usopp padded into the kitchen and made his way towards the sink, looking over his shoulder the entire way. When he was determined that Sanji hadn’t stirred he reached for a glass in the cupboard. Sanji turned a page behind him and Usopp stiffened. He peeked back. Sanji pulled the cigarette from his mouth but did not look up. Normally none entered the kitchen at night, afraid of the consequences of pilfering the supplies, but Usopp took his chances on occasion to relieve a parched throat and rare snack.

He adjusted the tap so water leaked out as quietly as possible. He turned from the glass to Sanji to the glass back to Sanji, but the other never budged. He could feel his heart in his chest, but Sanji’s quietness wasn’t alarming so it was steady but loud. When the glass filled he turned again. Sanji reached for the next page.

Usopp looked on as he drank, watched as the other softly pulled the cigarette to and from his mouth, watched as he delicately turned pages, and how he curled his big toe over his second as he read. After a few pages, Sanji adjusted his sitting position, pulling his right leg up under the other, while leaning his right arm along the back of the couch. His long torso stretched and for a flash of a second, Usopp saw a pale hip. It was then that he noticed that Sanji was not wearing a tie, his shirt was unbuttoned and untucked, and his jacket was being used like a shawl. His hair was mildly disheveled and the light above him created a bright halo on his light hair.

He set his empty glass down on the counter softly and walked towards Sanji – a sailor to a silent siren. The other made no movements, no indication that he noticed the other at all. When he approached he heard Sanji making small mouth sounds. Stepping closer he could hear Sanji whispering along to what he was reading. His voice was monotonous and a little dull, but Usopp had never heard Sanji’s voice so low. It was deeper and richer, and without thinking, he sat down next to Sanji so he could hear him better.

The cushion gave way for him, and Sanji turned the page, his voice stilling.

“Is there something you need, Usopp?” Sanji asked conversationally.

“What’re you reading?”

“A book.”

“Boo,” Usopp whined.

Sanji bookmarked the page with his finger and leaned so his body turned towards Usopp. His eyes were slightly red, and he looked ready for sleep. He said nothing as he watched the other man before him.

“Have you slept?” Usopp asked when the silence lingered.

Sanji stretched again, unfolding his legs, and groaned into the movement. “No.” He opened the book, to check his page and then set it next to him. Usopp leaned slightly to try and catch the title.

“Have you slept?” Sanji asked, leaning forward to block him.

“A little.”

“Do you want something to help? I could make some tea or—” Sanji went to stand, forever the doting host. Usopp put an arm out to stop him.

He shook his head. The motion moved Sanji back down to the couch. Usopp rubbed small circles with his thumb as he sat silently. Sanji peered at his couch companion and noticed the pause in Usopp’s posture.

Sanji’s whispered voice trailed along Usopp’s brain, and in a moment of bravery, he asked, “Will you continue?”

“Continue what?” Sanji wondered, settling back.

“Reading.”

“Reading?”

Usopp nodded.

Sanji rubbed his face a little, his goatee bristling under his hand. His face was pinking. “Was I reading out loud?”

“Only a little.”

Sanji chuckled, but his face flushed deeper. He traced a seahorse on the cover before picking the book back up. He handed the book towards Usopp. “How about you read to me?” Sanji was only mildly joking. More of him wanted to be read to, but a small moment of teasing got the better of him.

“What?” Usopp stiffened as the book fell into his hands.

“My eyes are getting tired, and I can’t focus too well.”

Usopp looked down to the book in his hands. There were two seahorses on the cover. He traced the same one he saw Sanji touch. “Sailing Alone Around the World.”

Sanji hummed in response. He pulled his left leg up and the knee rested against Usopp’s. Pulling the jacket around him slightly, he sunk lower into the couch until his head could lean onto the back. Waiting. Longing to be read to. Usopp looked over at him, taking in all the small acts of relaxation.

When Usopp made no movement to begin reading, Sanji reached out and opened the book for him. He flipped by the table of contents and stopped at the first chapter. There was a small illustration along the top of the page, and Usopp traced the line art for a moment. Sanji’s hand moved away, forcing the book to began to close. Usopp stopped the pages. Sanji smiled internally – a small victory.

Usopp picked up the book and brought it closer to the light. He began softly. “A blue-nose ancestry with Shandia proclivities – Youthful fondness for the seas – Master of the ship Northern Light – Loss of the Aquidneck – Return from Micqueot in the canoe Liberdade – the gift of a 'ship' – The rebuilding of the Spray – Conundrums in regard to finance and calking – The launching of the Spray.” Usopp stopped. “What is this?”

“No questions, no comments. Just read.”

“Bossy for someone who is too tired to read himself.”

Sanji hummed in response and pointed to the next part.

“Yeah, I got it,” he said as he grabbed Sanji’s finger and removed it from the book. He set Sanji’s hand on the couch, patting it a few times before pulling away.

Usopp began to read, giving more life to the words that Sanji had. There was a nuanced delivery, one not always in line with the tone of the text; but for someone who had never read the book, Sanji let it slip by. Usopp was an expert storyteller, and his ability to bring life to the page was exactly what Sanji was looking for. He closed his eyes and let Usopp’s voice pour into the cracks of his mind.

Usopp was surprised by the book, finding the author’s antiquated speech a delight to roll around his tongue. He read slowly at first, getting used to the lofty sentence length, acclimating himself to words with more than a couple syllables. Sometimes his sentences drifted as he tried his best to skim by the illustrations that appeared every few pages. When Usopp’s voice slowed, and his internal voice began, Sanji inched closer to bring Usopp back to the physical realm.

When Usopp was nearing the end of the first chapter, he felt a more solid presence against his side. Turning for just a moment he found Sanji’s head had drifted from the back of the couch and was resting against his shoulder. He turned back to the reading but found he had lost his spot.

He grew quiet. Sanji’s body was warm on his, and he could feel the rise and fall of the other man’s chest against his arm. His breathing was consistent and calm, waves gliding in and away from shore. Usopp noticed that Sanji’s hand was resting just next to his leg, the knuckle of his first finger rubbed against Usopp’s thigh in small and careful movements, a comforting motion he seemed to do in his sleep as if his chef hands could never be still.

Usopp smiled at the small activity.

“How fast will it crawl?” Sanji breathed.

Usopp crinkled his brow and leaned his ear towards Sanji.

“How fast will it crawl?’ Cried my old captain friend.” Sanji spoke, his body stirring a little. Usopp looked down at the book in his lap and found those words leaped off the page at him.

He chuckled and continued. “Tell us how fast,’ cried he, that we may get into port on time.”

Chancing a small glance, Usopp saw a delicate smile turning the corners of Sanji’s mouth. Usopp continued reading.

A door slammed sometime later, as the sky was dusting with color. Usopp sat up, focus slapping alive. There was no intruder in the kitchen. And no door seemed open. No action, anticipated or otherwise. He rubbed his eyes and felt a chilly morning air against his arms. Looking down he saw Sanji’s black jacket pooling over his legs. He gingerly picked up the fabric and then searched for the owner.

Sanji stood with his back to Usopp, a kettle set on the stove, and a collection of food displayed around him. Smoke drifted around him in delicate patterns. Usopp stood with the jacket and took a few cautious steps towards the counter.

An open window blew cool air into the room. Usopp shivered. He looked up to see Sanji wearing fresher clothes with a new jacket. Usopp was held to the room by the bubbling anticipation of tea and breakfast, so he pulled his arms into Sanji’s jacket for warmth.

The kettle whistled as Usopp sat down.

“What type of tea would you like?” Sanji asked.

“Oh, I dunno,” Usopp said scratching at his goatee. “Something earthy.”

Sanji opened a close cabinet and pulled out a few different bags. He opened and sniffed a few different ones before clicking his tongue to the perfect one. He threw the loose leaf into a smaller white pot and poured the boiling water on top. He placed the pot on a tray and turned around. His movements faltered for a moment when he saw Usopp at the counter.

Usopp’s hair had come loose from its tie and billowed around his face highlighted against the morning light in the windows. He leaned on an arm, Sanji’s jacket casually thrown over his own clothes. His eyes were half closed; sleep still in his posture. Sanji set the tray down and turned around to conceal his warm face.

“You fell asleep pretty early into the book,” Usopp scolded Sanji as the tea steeped.

“I was listening,” Sanji replied, turning back. He pulled out a fresh cigarette and leaned against the counter before Usopp.

“I don’t believe you.” Usopp scratched at his mass of hair.

“Do you remember where we ended?”

“Do you?”

Usopp reached for the book that was on the counter. He didn’t know exactly, but he could find it if he looked.

Sanji reached out and snatched the book away. “That’s cheating.”

“What? I’ve never even read the book before, how could I possibly remember the exact spot?”

“Give me a summary.”

Usopp huffed and pouted, trying his best to get his early morning brain to think of anything he read last night, but he couldn’t. Instead, all he could remember was the slow methodical motion of Sanji’s finger against his thigh, and the pressure of his body along his arm. The book was about a dude doing something alone, but he couldn’t seem to recall what.

Sanji watched Usopp try and remember; his face contorted into befuddlement and tiredness. The expression was endearing and Sanji found himself staring. Again. A heat rose to his cheeks. “Some hailed me to know where away and why alone,” Sanji spoke. Usopp stilled. Last night he had gotten just the briefest whisper of words. Now, in the clear morning, Sanji spoke with a quiet passion. “Why?” Sanji continued, never once opening the book. “When I made as if to stand in, a hundred pairs of arms reached out, and said come,” he looked towards Usopp, “but the shore,” Sanji paused, to check on the contents of the tea, “was dangerous.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of Chapter is from Nina Simone's "Exactly Like You"
> 
> Hello again and thanks for stopping by!
> 
> The text referenced in this chapter is from "Sailing Alone Around the World" by Joshua Slocum. Minor changes were made to bring the text into familiar seas.


	5. Lilac Wine

Usopp must have had a handful of glasses of beer before sneaking mixed drinks off the table; he couldn’t really remember that well. But as he hovered, sometimes stumbled, excitedly behind Nami, Zoro, Robin, and Franky while they were playing a dysfunctional game of cards, he realized he was drunker than he thought. Luffy had neither the stamina or the grace to bluff his way to winning, and Chopper was fiddling with his glass, uncertain of the contents, but curious enough to sample it, so Usopp made his way around the table a few times, stopping by everyone. Brook lounged with his violin while offering nonsensical commentary with superfluous tips, to which Usopp offered rebuttals.

Sanji watched the game progress, chatting with Nami between bets, sipping from his glass regularly, and generally keeping tabs on everything. The kitchen was warm with all the bodies packed inside, so he stood to prop open the entryway. He refilled glasses on the table before deciding all of the activities and drinking needed encouragement and headed into the kitchen. He rocked and wobbled as he prepared a simple array of food. The crew had been playing cards since dinner, and the darkness of the night with the mass of empty bottles and kegs confirmed the general state of inebriation.

Nami threw down a winning hand, and the rest of the room was part awe and part angst at the result. The small pile of coin and treasure was scooped up with excited arms. It was Zoro’s deal and the group leisurely moved into the next round. They leaned back, sipped drinks and made conversation with those next to them while the swordsman shuffled and dealt. Cards were held and forfeited until eventually, the newest round began.

But when Sanji placed the spread of food on the table, cards were abandoned and bets halted. He sat down next to Robin with a refreshed glass of wine cupped in his hand. The group picked over the assortment with laughter as many hands blocked Luffy’s attempt at swallowing the entire platter.

In time the game resumed, and the talk around the table turned to mild insults and sarcastic humor. Usopp stood behind Zoro with both hands on the swordsman’s shoulders. Sanji watched as Usopp softly shook the other as he observed the game at hand.

Usopp smiled easily and was generally a dead give away to the contents of Zoro’s hand – smirking, scowling and scrutinizing the cards. Sanji chuckled internally. Everyone else seemed oblivious to the faces Usopp made, and in a private moment, Sanji allowed himself to regard Usopp. He watched as Usopp’s eyes move around the table, taking in each person. His expressions carefree and calm, his animated arms revealing. Sanji wondered if he would ever see the other play a round or two. Usopp was observant and prone to exaggeration, and while most lies were obvious he wondered what his tell would be or if he would be so bouncy it would get lost.

Usopp moved towards Nami, where he bent down and practically pushed his face against hers. Sanji leaned onto the table and watched, as she was neither attentive to nor distracted by his presence. His arm slunk around her shoulder and when Franky made a rather bold bet, Usopp whispered something into her ear and she reached up to push his face away from hers with a laugh. He chuckled and stayed close to her, watched as she decided.

Nami made her bet and Usopp slithered over to Robin. His body unable to stop, to still, he was an ocean: someone Sanji could drift with or someone he could drown in.   Usopp infringed on Robin’s space but was only close enough to offer unsolicited advice. He pointed to cards in seemingly random order with no discernable pattern. She eyed him playfully before forming a hand from the table to grab his finger. He dramatically feigned pain and she chuckled, materializing another hand to push him on towards Sanji who sat back just in time to steady Usopp’s body as he stumbled. His hands found Sanji with a firm ease. He swam his hands over Sanji as he righted himself, washing over the lapel and collar of his jacket. Sanji could feel the heat from his hands through his clothes.

He took a sip of his drink as Usopp began a gentle massage of his shoulders. His deft hands pressed into the spaces between his shoulder blades and over the tightness of his neck. Sanji could feel Usopp swaying a little on his feet, but the pressure of his hands was dynamic and pulled all tension out of Sanji. His eyes began to unfocus and his mind began to wander. Buoyed by Usopp’s touch Sanji bobbed and swayed as the game progressed.

Franky folded his hand and Usopp slid his right hand up to Sanji’s hair and scratched his nails along his nape. Sanji’s head bowed forward and Usopp’s hand traveled up. Zoro was the next to fold, but Sanji was oblivious.

He honed in on the fingers in his hair and felt each pad as they rolled over the terrain of his scalp. His head sank and eyes slid shut. Fingers curled into the strands of his hair, nails scrapped at his skin. The hand left his hair and traveled down to his shoulder again, where it continued its descent. Usopp leaned in and Sanji could feel his warm breath on his ear.

“You’re going to spill that,” the voice breathed. Usopp’s hand closed over his and removed the glass that was teetering in his weak grasp.

Sanji straightened up suddenly and knocked his knee against the table. Zoro made a comment about Sanji’s inability to hold his liquor, but he found his embarrassment was more important to hide. So he fumbled while lighting a cigarette, settling back down into his chair – content on offering a half-baked grumble.

Luffy pounced on Usopp and the two careened away from Sanji. His hand reached for Usopp’s as it slid down his arm and he reluctantly let go when the pair continued onward. Luffy’s restlessness had hit a peak and he was now determined to do anything else. The rest of the crew, drawn by the energy of their captain, flowed as one out onto the deck; the game deserted. Left on his own, Sanji stared at the ditched dishes. He sighed, hoping the cleaning would help him sober up a little.

The table was full of crumbs and glasses and for the most part whole plates. He sat and finished his cigarette. Brook’s violin created a casual melody as the rest of the crew mingled around on deck. Phantom fingers trailed Sanji’s scalp and he found himself reaching up for the presence. His hand stopped on his shoulder. He scratched his head and lit another cigarette, shaking the sensation of Usopp’s touch from his mind. He stood from his seat and began cleaning up: stacking cups and piling plates. When the heap of dishes was significantly high he turned to the sink.

Usopp was standing there, a glass of water pressed against his neck. He was staring towards the door, his eyes focused on nothing at all. Sanji swallowed hard and tried to move as professionally as possible, suddenly aware of his lingering thoughts. He never heard Usopp enter and was ashamed to admit he had let his guard down. Sanji focused on settling the dishes into the sink wondering if he was still drunk. As he reached for the tap Usopp’s arm stretched over and wrapped around his stomach, his head drifting onto Sanji’s shoulder.

Usopp radiated body heat.

“Usopp, you’re warm,” Sanji said.

Usopp hummed in response.

Sanji reached for the arm across his waist, the skin burned beneath his palm. “You’re too hot, get off.” He reached up with his other arm and pressed against Usopp’s exposed collarbone. His body was tacky with sweat and Sanji drank in the sensation. Usopp’s hand was under his jacket, and the fingers grasped onto the thin material of his shirt.

Usopp whimpered. “But you’re so cool.”

His hand slid from the sniper’s shoulder over his chest and down to his waist where it stopped. Sanji’s brain could think of nothing else but the presence of the other man. As hot as he was, Sanji did not want to lose the connection. Usopp rubbed his cheek against Sanji’s shoulder and made a small contented sigh. Sanji’s hand rubbed at the wrist-warmer on Usopp’s arm unconsciously. He traced the material from forearm to wrist. Curiously he pushed his first two fingers under the material – Usopp’s skin was hotter there, and drawn in Sanji dragged his fingers over the heat.

Usopp’s body grew heavy against his side, and when Sanji peered over at him, he saw the other’s eyes beginning to drift shut.

“Don’t you fall asleep on me.”

“I’m so tired,” Usopp slurred.

“I’ll drop you.”

“Drop me on the couch, if you could.”

Sanji gritted his teeth, as the other went limp. Sanji caught him easily, though the unexpected weight knocked him back – their bodies flush against one another. He wrapped his arms around Usopp’s torso and hoisted him up. He took in a breath of the other, could smell a variety of powders and oils, something salty and familiar, a scent that pulled him out of himself. He began to walk, and Usopp stumbled next to him.

When he approached the couch he let the other fall on it. Usopp laughed and tossed out a victory sign to Sanji, who twisted away returning to his cleaning.  Returning to himself. The party outside was growing quieter and quieter, the laughs farther and farther apart. Sanji worked efficiently and methodically, zoning in and out, occasionally stopping to see Usopp’s soft breathing across the room. He thought, again, of Usopp’s hands against his body. He stopped cleaning as an influx of heat rushed to his face.

When he finished tidying up, the ship was quiet around him. He peered over his shoulder to see Usopp still asleep on the sofa. He walked over and stood next to him.

“Hey,” Sanji called. “Go to your bed.” Usopp groaned but did not move. Sanji reached down and grabbed Usopp’s nose. His brows crinkled, but his eyes never opened. Sanji huffed and made to walk away.

Usopp’s hand touched his. He looked down to the index and middle fingers that were on his.

“If you’re awake go back to bed.” Sanji’s chided, but his fingers curled into Usopp’s

“Let me sleep a little longer.” His voice was heavy.

Sanji nodded and prepared to leave.

“Stay with me.”

Sanji froze. His heart crashed hard in his chest. He turned to see Usopp watching him.

“Alright,” he whispered, drawn to the other. “Move over a little.”

Usopp shifted to make space. Sanji grabbed the other’s legs, moving them over his lap as he sat. Usopp rotated and rearranged himself, crushing Sanji periodically. Sanji pinched the skin on Usopp’s ankle playfully and Usopp laughed lightly before yawning. He stretched into the couch and Sanji came to rest his hand on Usopp’s shin as he leaned back. He closed his eyes and felt the pressure of Usopp’s legs on him, found the hair beneath his fingertips was soft and in his relaxation he slid his hand down the other’s leg.

Usopp sighed. Sanji grinned, pleased with the sound.

Sanji leaned his right arm along the back of the sofa and cradled his head in his hand. He opened his eyes to find Usopp gazing at him. He gave Sanji a fond smile before closing his eyes, languid and content. Sanji's left hand made its way back up Usopp’s shin where he rubbed his thumb in the crook of the other's knee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of Chapter is from Nina Simone's "Lilac Wine"
> 
> I am still very grateful and excited to see comments and kudos. Thank you for your continued support.


	6. White Rabbit

Usopp had eaten a lot of weird food in his day, but this vegetable was somehow – different. The texture was normal, and it sated a hunger that had been looming since dawn, but his tongue felt a little too big in his mouth as he was eating it, and when he was done Usopp felt – weird. His feet sank and his head seemed to stretch far away from his body. He had to reach up to check that it was still attached to his neck. His hair brushed his arm and gooseflesh broke out over his skin. He giggled at the sensation.

He swished his head back over his arm, and the hair tickled along his skin. Inquisitively he leaned his head back and the curls swayed over his back. They were satin soft against the sensitive skin along his spine. He stood up and the pressure in his knees deflated and he wobbled out of the men’s quarters, suddenly very thirsty.

His hands reached for every surface along the way, feeling the smooth lacquer of the ship’s door and the chill of the metal doorknob. Stopping to rub his fingers along the white paint of the guardrail, Usopp could feel the brushstrokes through his arm. The grass was squishy and Usopp slipped out of his shoes to push his toes into the texture. He giggled again.

“Usopp?” He heard Robin’s voice.

He hummed a response but didn’t look up. He was too enthralled by the color of the grass. Had he ever seen anything so green before? Green was his new favorite color, he decided.

“Usopp, are you feeling okay?” Robin’s voice called.

He tilted his head towards her, and the weight of his head threw off his equilibrium. He teetered but corrected himself. She was standing in the doorway from the aquarium bar with a sweating glass in her hand. Thisrty, he remembered, and began towards the stairs. The first stepped moved before him and Usopp’s shin caught the rise. He buckled forward and his knee caught the next stair where he sank to all fours.

“Usopp,” Robin’s concerned voice spoke behind him. Usopp began to climb the stairs on hands and knees. The method was so efficient and easy Usopp wondered why no one ascended stairs like this daily. Arms lifted him from his crawl. His body became weightless and he looked up towards the expanse of sky before him.

“I’m floating.”

“Usopp.” Her voice was stern.

“Robin.” He mimicked and let out a laugh.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m so thirsty,” he said smacking his lips together. “Can you put me down?” She glided him back to the stairs. His body felt heavy again, but when he reached with his foot, the stairs stayed put. His hand stayed on the railing and Robin watched him from the bottom of the stairs.

At the landing Usopp’s mind failed to recognize the flat surface, so the step he took was too high. His momentum lurched him forward and he stumbled into the door of the kitchen. It swung open as his body crashed into it and following the energy he went down face first into the floor. He stayed there, his mind trying to catch up.

“What the hell’re you doing?” Sanji’s voice heated.

“I’m thirsty,” Usopp muttered into the floor, making no effort to move. He pooled in the entryway. The wood under his chest and arms was cool and Usopp found he liked the sensation. More people should lie on cool wood.

“You’re in the way.”

“But it’s so nice.” Usopp pulled his arms underneath him and pressed against the floor, but his body was too weak to lift himself.

“What’s wrong with you?” Sanji asked, his footsteps falling hard into the floor.

“What’s wrong with you?” Usopp mocked back. He could see Sanji’s shoes in his view, but he didn’t feel a sense of dread to get out of their path. Sanji squatted into Usopp’s line of sight, but Usopp found he didn’t want to look at Sanji.

“Usopp,” Sanji’s voice was softer, gentler. Usopp closed his eyes and let the sound cascade into him. He replayed the sound over and over again. Could hear the clear almost breathe like beginning and wet conclusion of his name. He swallowed hard. “Look at me.”

Usopp’s eyes opened of their own accord and he stared up into Sanji’s face. The eye that looked back at him was kind. It peered into him and Usopp felt overwhelmed. What did that eye see? He couldn’t read the expression. He felt like he was staring overboard into the sea. He wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. As much as it worried him he liked it, wanted to see more and be seen more. His hand reached up, he wanted to see the other eye. Wanted to know if both were as intense.

“Are you feeling okay?”

Usopp swallowed hard again. “I’m thirsty.” He closed his fingers into a first.

Sanji reached out for the other, and wrapped his hand around Usopp’s wrist – he felt warm beneath his touch.

“Come on,” Sanji murmured, lifting him to his knees. Usopp offered little in way of assistance, and Sanji wondered if it was on purpose. His pupils were blown and his body was weak. When Usopp was on his feet, Sanji guided him towards the couch and directed him to a sitting position. Usopp’s body melted into the furniture, and his eyes watched Sanji again. He felt unnerved and exposed as if those eyes could see every secret he held close, and every thought he ever had.

Sanji looked away. He stood up from the couch, his body tight with a tension he hadn’t experienced before.   He was aware of all the micro-movements of his body. How his foot lifted off the ground, the way his body shifted as he walked. Where his hand brushed his thigh. He clenched and unclenched his jaw.

His hand shook slightly as he filled a glass with water. When he turned, Usopp was watching him – had been watching him. Sanji wondered if that was the feeling he was experiencing. Resolute observation. Untiring inspection. Attention. He stood at the sink, and they regarded each other from across the room.

This time, Sanji refused to be the first to look away. He started towards Usopp as slowly as he could, but his heart rushed him forward. He stopped before Usopp. Usopp looked up, his body following. Sanji held the glass out silently. Usopp took it. He brought the glass to his lips and closed his eyes to drink. Sanji sank to his knees before Usopp, inspecting the other for signs of sickness – for some affliction.

He did not know what was affecting Usopp, but he wondered if it was contagious. He felt disconnected from his body, from his mind, from himself – but at the same time, he was whole and aware. Sanji watched Usopp finish the glass.

His dark eyes opened but looked at the empty glass. Sanji swallowed. Usopp looked at him. They stared at one another. Awash with uncertainty, Sanji wondered if he was crashing up against the cliff of Usopp or if Usopp’s waves were weathering him away.

Usopp reached out. Sanji reached out. Usopp stopped. Sanji did not. He took the glass from Usopp’s hand their fingers connecting.

“Are you still thirsty?” Sanji asked, searching Usopp’s face.

Usopp leaned forward and pushed the hair away from Sanji’s face, exposing both eyes. “Yes,” he replied, looking from one eye to the other. Sanji froze.

Usopp’s eyes roamed his face. Then his free hand trailed along Sanji’s hairline and down over his cheekbone. He rolled his hand and caressed his knuckled along Sanji’s cheek and jaw. The digits unraveled and he cupped his chin. Sanji swallowed watching Usopp watch him. The hand descended over his neck and across his Adam’s apple. Fingertips traced the collar of his shirt and then rose back up to his face. They stilled.

“Is skin always like this?”

“W-What?” Snaji croaked.

“Silken,” he drew lightly over the skin under Sanji’s left eye. “Soft.” His fingers fell over his cheek. “Supple.” A thumb over his bottom lip. “You’re so soothing.”

“Usopp,” Sanji said, leaning just out of reach. Usopp’s brow furled and he followed. Sanji caught his wrist.

“You’re red,” Usopp said, slightly alarmed. “Are you okay?”

Sanji stood up, letting Usopp’s hand fall away. He walked back over to the sink and filled the glass with water. When he returned to Usopp the other was inspecting his hands as if he had never seen them before. Sanji reached out and put the water in the way.

“Thanks,” Usopp smiled up at him.

Sanji sank down next to him. He could still feel the fingers along his face, and the trail of heat that had dissipated in their wake. When he closed his eyes Sanji could feel where Usopp’s eyes had traveled.

“What were you looking at?” Sanji found himself asking.

“I was searching,” Usopp replied, no hesitation.

“Searching?”

“Searching.”

“For what exactly?”

“What it is you keep hidden away.”

Sanji turned towards Usopp. “Who says I keep anything hidden away?”

“Everyone does. Some hide the ugliest parts of themselves,” Usopp turned towards Sanji. “And some hide the most beautiful.”

“Perhaps the beauty you see in me is a reflection of the beauty in yourself.”

Usopp’s face folded into a smile, and then collapsed into laughter.

“That’s so cheesy.” Usopp sputtered out between laughs.

A heat rose to Sanji’s cheeks. He got caught up in Usopp’s confession one of his own spilled right out. He felt embarrassed and slightly humiliated. His body became tight and he began his escape by standing.

“No,” Usopp’s voice broke in. “I’m sorry. Something’s wrong with me. Please wait.”

Sanji stood with his back to Usopp.

“What do you mean something is wrong with you?” He turned around.

“I ate something earlier, and I’m having a hard time controlling myself.”

“What do you mean you ate something earlier.” He stepped into Usopp’s space staring down at him. “Did you steal something from me?”

Usopp averted his eyes and pulled his head down into his shoulders. “No.”

Sanji leaned down and Usopp leaned his head back.

“What did you take?”

“It was just a small, red, tomato-like thing.”

Sanji squinted his eyes at Usopp. “Did it have a dark purple stem?”

Usopp fidgeted under Sanji’s scrutiny. “Maybe.”

Sanji sighed. “Let me make you something to eat.”

“But I’m not hungry.”

“You will be in a little while.”

“How do you know?”

Sanji hesitated, wondering if confessing to the nature of the food’s uncooked status was best. He scratched his head and pulled out a cigarette.

Usopp found Sanji’s silence worrisome and his heart started to race in his chest. “What did I eat?” He tried to stand but found his legs were still like a newborn’s. He stared up at Sanji.

“Nothing that will cause you problems,” Sanji reassured him, “just some heightened senses and emotions. It won’t last too long.” He reached out to help Usopp stand. Usopp clutched to Sanji as he helped him over towards the counter.

When Usopp was situated, Sanji prepared a small plate of cheese and bread, putting it down next to a glass of water. He sat down next to Usopp making sure he did not sway off his seat. Usopp stared at the plate for a long while, inspecting each piece of bread and all the slices of cheese. After a few moments, Usopp reached out and picked up a piece of bread. He tore off small pieces and then picked up some cheese – that too he ripped into sections.

“Food’s not a toy,” Sanji said when Usopp began to build a small fort with the food. Usopp slapped his hands over it as if he forgot that Sanji was there. He giggled and rubbed the back of his head, and Sanji’s chest warmed.

He reached over Usopp’s hands and picked up a piece of each and put them in his mouth. Usopp took a tentative bite of bread and then another, stuffing the food into his mouth, suddenly ravenous. He turned towards Sanji and smiled. Together they ate in a comfortable silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of Chapter if from Jefferson Airplane's "White Rabbit"
> 
> I am so pleased so many have left kudos and comments. Thanks for your continued support!


	7. We All Go Back To Where We Belong

Usopp was on the night watch, standing wrapped up in a blanket as the stars and the sea met at the horizon. They blended into one magnificent expanse ablaze with color and light. Not like the city where only pinpricks of lights dotted in, but awash with purples and blues. The sky fissured and broke, cracking down the middle, dropping their planet in between. If Usopp did not look down at the ship he could have sworn he was standing alone amongst the heavens. And while he relished the feeling of being on his own, no misery or danger, he could not find peace. He hated having to be in the crow’s nest at night. The dome of the sky felt close and oppressive, sinking down on him so near that if he were to reach up, poke his fingers into the holes of the night he could rip it open to display the dawn.

He wrapped the blanket around tighter and leaned into the railing around the structure to stave off sleep. The morning was still hours off, so he watched way off waving stars and slipped into silent scrutiny. There was so much to see that his mind could not rest and washed through many thoughts, but he let himself rest on none of them.

His breath was a constant swish in his ears. After a while, he could not differentiate his breath from the ocean. The crash in. The hiss out.

Usopp heard the door open and turned to see a small red glow emerging from the door. Sanji was silent as he made his way over, steaming glasses in his hands, bobbing cherry smoking in his wake.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” Usopp asked.

Sanji shrugged. “Maybe. But I was awake.” He held a glass out to Usopp, who unwrapped himself just enough to grab the cup.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

He took a taste of the hot coffee, noting just a splash of honey added in – his favorite. He smiled into the warmth that was from more than the coffee. He turned back out towards the speckled backdrop.

Sanji walked forward and leaned next to Usopp. He took small sips in between Usopp’s. Usopp waiting till Sanji stopped to drink his own. He was unable to think of anything to say and felt tentative in the silence.

“How do you do it?” Usopp asked when the silence and the stars stretched on too far, took up too much of the space around him. He rolled the coffee around in the cup, watching it swirl.

“Do what?”

“Remember everybody’s preferences for food?”

“Practice.”

Usopp turned towards Sanji, the blanket falling off his shoulder; Sanji’s eyes followed the drop.

“You do that a lot you know?”

“What?” Sanji’s eyes were slow to return to Usopp’s.

“Give short, cryptic answers.”

Sanji shrugged and took a drink of his coffee. “Habit.”

Usopp gave a short snort and turned away. “Dick,” he said halfheartedly.

Sanji laughed, soft and full of soul. “The Baratie was not a place of easy conversation,” he began. Usopp watched the stars, but he was listening to Sanji’s voice. “I got used to lectures about knife techniques and temperature degrees depending on climate. Personal tidbits and habits were tossed into conversations like seasonings – some dashed in while others simmered over time. So I got used to watching, looking, trying to decipher personalities by what they ate in their downtime, and how they chopped their vegetables. So for the crew, spending so much time watching, it wasn’t hard for me to see that you drank more coffee when there was honey in it.”

His monologue concluded slowly and Usopp turned to see Sanji staring out towards the reflection of the sky. He held his cigarette and cup in the same hand while his other hand traced the rim on the cup. Usopp could tell by the posture of the other man that he was no longer present. While his face was primarily covered, Usopp knew the stare was clouded over and void. He was back aboard the Baratie, a place Usopp could not enter. So he waited outside, ready whenever he returned.

Usopp drank slowly, drifting along together with Sanji on a current of stars.

“How do you think up stories so quickly?” Sanji broke in as soon as Usopp had found ease in the quiet of another person.

“You meaning lying?” Usopp joked turning towards Sanji. Sanji shook his head. “In a way, all stories are lies – used to comfort or entertain. Like most lies, it’s about what someone wants to hear, what would bring ease to someone, be it the speaker or the listener. I guess somewhere along the way I got comfortable telling myself the things I wanted to hear, instead of the things I needed to hear. They become mantras.”

“That sounds a little too convenient.” Sanji rotated into Usopp’s space.

“Not everything is complicated.” Usopp laughed, finding himself pulled closer to Sanji.

“Stories are complicated things—” Sanji leaned in.

“Not nearly as complicated as cooking.” Usopp stepped in.

“Nah, cooking’s easy.” Sanji laughed again. “It’s just a lot of trial and error, but essentially it’s just throwing things together.”

“The same could be said about lies.”

“Stories.” Sanji corrected.

“You have too high an opinion of me.”

“Perhaps you don’t have a high enough opinion of yourself.”

Usopp stared up at Sanji. Perhaps he was right – liars made poor companions and for a lot of his life he was his only friend.

Sanji’s hand reached out to Usopp lifting the blanket back up to his shoulder. His fingertips were icy against his skin. The night knew how to humble all, it seemed. In the dark confessions slipped out and corners of personalities were rubbed down so only the softest sides showed.

“Did you just come up here for coffee?”

Sanji turned back towards the expanse of the sea. “I was hoping to catch a shooting star.”

“Do you have a wish in mind?”

“If I tell you then it won’t come true.”

“That’s birthday candles. I don’t know if telling your wish before seeing a shooting star makes that wish void.”

“Can’t take the risk.”

Usopp huffed but didn’t push the subject any farther. He watched the cosmos instead. Perhaps the stars were less like diamonds and more like scars – their beauty came from their history and less from their looks. Sanji was standing shoulder to shoulder with Usopp, and the warmth of his body reached out for Usopp’s. Usopp’s reached in return, but the blanket stifled their connection. Sanji shivered in the cold. Usopp turned to see Sanji pushing his hands into the folds of his jacket.

Usopp opened the blanket. Sanji looked towards him and Usopp motioned for him to step closer.

“It’s warmer in here.”

Sanji set his cup down on the ground and took Usopp’s from his outstretched hand, putting them together. Then he took the blanket out of Usopp’s hand and slid in with the other man, pressing his body up against Usopp’s back, wrapping his arm and the blanket back around the body before him. His other arm slipped around Usopp’s waist, his fingers cold against Usopp’s arm and stomach.

“Oh my god, how are your hands that cold?”

“Genetics.”

“Ha,” Usopp’s laugh barked.

“How old were you the last time you wished on a star?”

Usopp thought back to his hometown, and the life he lived there, but couldn’t think of a single time since his mother’s death – he wished on everything he could think of to bring her back. Dandelions. Eyelashes. Wishbones. The first star in the night sky and any comet that streaked by. But after a while, he stopped wishing on things. Found wishes don’t bring you what you want.

“Oh,” Usopp shrugged. “I dunno, it’s been a long time.”

“Is there anything you’d wish for?”

Usopp thought of the arms around his body and the pressure of Sanji against his back. Felt the heat leach into him and smooth out all the creases of fatigue like an iron. Usopp shook his head. “I have what I need right now.”

Usopp turned his head towards the sky and watched for a falling star. The blaze of lights still burning – maybe a little bit brighter. In the heat of the cocoon he shared with Sanji, Usopp found his body leaning back into the man behind him. As if prepared for the pressure, Sanji’s arms wrapped closer, his head leaning onto Usopp’s, together they stood propping each other up. They stayed like that – anchored to each other, afloat amongst the stars.

Suddenly the sky felt far away. Usopp could no longer reach into space and tear it open. He did not want the sun to peek in.

“Do you ever wonder what the space between the stars is filled with?” Sanji’s voice breathed into his ear.

Usopp shivered against the sensation, felt Sanji’s arms close in nearer. Usopp’s hands found their way to Sanji’s and he grabbed on.

“I was told there is a perfect spot out there, shaped like me – like everyone – so that when we die, our bodies will have a place to come back to. And that when I was born, I fell from that same spot, my body formed from space itself. So my body is its body. My soul – its soul.”

“So where did you fall from then?” Usopp asked.

Sanji shuffled their bodies starboard. He pulled the blanket off Usopp and pointed low. Usopp leaned in so he could peer down Sanji’s arm. His finger pointed to a spot just above the ocean, mixed into the green of the Aurora.

“Where do you think I was?” Usopp asked.

The arm wrapped back around his body. He was shuffled again, Sanji’s feet knocking against his boots, and he was turned to the bow. There was a bright cluster of stars. Sanji reached out and pointed towards the spot, then slowly his finger started to rise. The hand prolonged the trip,  drifting by the brightest spots, hovering around until it stopped at a small dark section.

“There,” he whispered.

“I’m a dark spot of the sky?” Usopp asked, slightly affronted.

“You’re the missing piece. All your light fell with you, while some of mine was left behind.”

Despite himself, Usopp found himself smiling at the sentiment. “You’re a hopeless romantic.”

“I’ve been called worse in my life.” His arm retracted, the blanket falling back to their huddled mass. Usopp’s fingers rubbed the back of Sanji’s hands, rolling over the waves of knuckles. He heard Sanji let out a contented sigh and he smiled at the sound and heat against his cheek. Sanji’s head drifted towards his shoulder and he could feel Sanji’s cheek on his skin.

“I should head back.” He unwrapped them and made sure that the blanket only left Usopp for the shortest time. Sanji wrapped Usopp back up, and rubbed his hands up and down his biceps, prolonging the contact for as long as possible.

“I’ll make you some coffee after your watch. Stop by.”

“I will.” And with that Sanji’s hands fell away. He stooped to pick up the glasses and headed off.

“I’ll see you soon,” Sanji called as he shut the door to the bird’s nest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of Chapter is from R.E.M's " We All Go Back To Where We Belong"
> 
> You are all such wonderful humans and I am so glad this little collection is bringing you all joy. Thank you so much for all your comments and kudos. All my best to you.


	8. Feeling Gravity's Pull

Usopp was lazing his way back to the Sunny, after a particularly delicious meal – he was full and sated so his steps were slow. The streets were sparse, and the night was cool, so he took his time through town. His mind filtered the events of the day and rested on a vision of Sanji passionately bargaining with a man in the market. He must have been particularly charming because the other man was laughing the entire time.

As Usopp rounded a corner to take a shortcut back to the ship when his hair was pulled back, and a blow landed to his kidneys. He doubled forward in a startled gasp, landing on hands and knees. A kick landed straight to his diaphragm and he threw up everything he had eaten. The blindsided attack came with various shouts and screams about his comrades with each blow to his body. There was hollering about the price on his head, and if they should take him dead or alive. He looked for his assailant but only saw a footprint descend into his eye.

Usopp couldn’t say he knew a lot in life, but if he knew anything it was how to take a beating. He was good at a distance when he had the advantage of sight, but up close, when an opponent was within arms reach, he was at a serious disadvantage. To his better judgment, he knew how to keep on getting up. Each fist to his face was another knee he climbed to. Every kick to the ribs was just a step he took towards danger. If he couldn’t escape, he would make it impossible for the other to either.

He would get lucky when his more battle hardened companions happened upon his struggles. And he would do what he could until someone found him. If they never did, he resigned; at least he put up a fight until the end. In a way he was a boxer, he’d keep getting up until the count was out – until he could no longer get up.

Usopp felt a bone in his face crack and tasted the familiar metallic flavor of blood in his mouth. He spit it towards the mystery guest right before his head was forced back into the ground, a foot on his neck.

“Where are your Nakama now, Sogeking?” He reached for the limb with a weak hand, vision giving out for a moment. The dirt bit into his scalp and temple while his skin grated off his shoulder. As the assailant’s boot pressed into his neck and jaw, he grasped onto the shoe as his other hand wormed its way into his bag for a boshi. He couldn’t be sure which one he was grabbing, but he’d settle for anything right now.

He threw the first thing his fingers grabbed as hard as he could, pleased to see smoke erupt in his attacker’s face, throwing him off balance enough to let Usopp roll out of reach.

Sanji’s leg whisked by as he stumbled and coughed to a standing position, his body tensing to fight back. There was a ringing in his ears as Sanji’s hand grabbed his bicep and pulled him back as he punted the man's legs out from under him. He fell bodily to the ground, a heap of limbs. He groaned and rolled to his hands and knees. Sanji stomped down on his back, laying him flat. Another appeared from around the corner.

Usopp could feel his one eye pulsing with adrenaline and his vision honed in on everything. He could smell blood and see fear – his or the other’s he did know. His body was alight with action. Usopp stepped out from behind Sanji to jump in but Sanji pulled Usopp behind him again.

“Brace yourself,” Sanji’s voice called.

Usopp pressed his legs into the ground, steadied his weight between them and felt as Sanji reached with his other hand for Usopp. He wrapped his arms around Sanji’s and when the other man lunged, Sanji leaned back into Usopp and propelled both legs forward, launching the man back onto the other. His actions were rough and aggressive in a way Usopp didn’t know. What would normally be choreographed agility was now brutish displays of violence, akin to a drunken bar brawl with heavy unsure blows. A crack echoed around them, and as Sanji was landing he told Usopp to get going.

They left the two in a pile as a cut in Usopp’s face bleeds down his cheek. His one eye was swelling shut as they moved. He could feel the ground beneath him sway like he was abroad the Sunny, but he knew he was on solid ground.

“Steady,” Sanji’s voice called as he reached for Usopp. Usopp’s hand reached for Sanji’s but he missed and began to teeter forward. Sanji pushed himself in the way and Usopp grasped onto Sanji to keep himself upright. It had been a long time since he had been kicked directly in the head.

Usopp stared at where his fingers were clutching onto Sanji’s lapels. His knuckles were white but he didn’t think he was holding on that tight. He blinked at them, finding it hard to unlatch his grasp. “Look at me,” Sanji’s voice called. Usopp continued to move his hands, one finger at a time. “Usopp.” Sanji’s voice sounded alarmed. Usopp looked up. Sanji’s eyes darted back and forth between Usopp’s and Usopp tried to follow, but he couldn’t.

His hands fell away from Sanji’s jacket, his body flushed of all energy. He sighed to himself as his memory tried to piece together what had just happened and where he was exactly. Sanji examined Usopp as they stood.

He was wavering in place, his eyes unfocused and unclear. The blood that was slipping from his wound was clogged with dirt. Sanji reached up and touched next to Usopp’s swollen eye, feeling for broken bones. The skin was tight under his touch yet Usopp didn’t react.

“Can you walk?” Sanji asked. Usopp didn’t respond. Sanji leaned down into Usopp’s line of sight, and that seemed to dislodge something in him. His unharmed eye moved toward Sanji and he focused on himself a second. “Can you walk?” Sanji tried again.

Usopp nodded then blinked slowly.

Sanji wrapped his arm around Usopp’s waist and steered him towards the docks. They were almost there, and Sanji bound himself to the other’s side as they moved. Usopp’s steps were slow and heavy, each movement delayed. Usopp was silent the entire way, and that worried Sanji the most. He tried to get the other to tell him anything, start a conversation in some way, but each attempt he made to extrapolate a story ended in failure. Usopp was there, but he was missing.

Sanji was thrilled to see Chopper’s light on and pushed Usopp inside.

“Something’s wrong,” was the first thing out of Sanji’s mouth.

Chopper turned away from Nami. She moved quickly to assist Sanji. Usopp’s motions were more clumsy and disjointed than their walk. He reached for the chair but his foot found it first and pushed it back. He fell towards it and both Nami and Sanji caught him. When he was seated Chopper began his inspection immediately. Sanji hovered, watching Chopper poke and prod and examine Usopp’s face. He asked Usopp questions, and each answer required long pauses.

Sanji could now see the blossoming of a burse along Usopp’s waist. There was a ripple in his side and Sanji’s stomach stumbled. He reached for the mark.

“Perhaps we should wait outside,” Nami’s voice spoke soothingly as she intercepted Sanji’s hand. He said nothing as she led him from the room.

The night was refreshing against his feverish skin, and he was quick to take a cigarette from his jacket. His hands were surprisingly steady as he lit up.

“Are you doing okay?” Nami asked after Sanji had smoked down half of his cigarette.

“What?” He turned towards her. “Yeah.”

“You’ve got a little—” she said reaching out, rubbing her thumb along his jaw. The blood was dry to her touch, and Sanji could feel it crack and crumble. She scratched at it gently as they descended into silence.

“What happened exactly?”

“I don’t know,” he took a drag. “I was heading back to the ship and all of a sudden I hear screaming. Then the telltale sound of fists on skin – then my name.”

“Your name?”

“Everyone’s name.” He scratches at his face. “So I head towards the sound and when I come around the corner, I see Usopp on the ground, a foot on his neck. He’s just lying there – he’s not fighting. He’s not moving. I freeze.” He takes another puff and holds it in, thinking back on Usopp’s unresponsive body. “I never freeze. But then something protective in me clicks and I rush forwards. Then Usopp begins to move. I feel –“ his hand starts to shake a little and he stuffs his hands in his pockets to hide it. “Relief. Adrenaline. He’s moving again; he’s fighting back, that’s good.”

Nami is silent as Sanji tells what happened. He turns to her and she’s looking at him fondly.

“Am I that dashing?” He jests.

“Something like that.” She stretches a little and heads towards the swing. Sanji follows. “Give me a push, will you?” She asks as she settles onto the seat. There is a creak from the rope and a groan from the tree. Her feet glide over the grass and Sanji reaches out.

He pulls back on the swing and brings Nami’s body with it. When he releases her she gives a soft hum.   The activity keeps Sanji’s mind occupied. He finds the repetition of the momentum hypnotizing and is lulled into a sense of peace. Nami’s feet drape along in a soft breeze of motion, and Sanji can hear them part the grass. But then the image of Usopp’s blank expression causes him to falter. His push weak and the gliding rocked. Nami stops herself and turns around to see Sanji covering his eyes. Trying to block out the image as if it were there displayed before him.

“Sanji?”

“What if he—“

“Usopp is much tougher than a few bumps.”

“But his face was so—” he stammered to think of a word to describe the emptiness there. It wasn’t so much a lack of life, a lack of thought, but a lack of – Usopp.

“Sanji,” Nami’s voice called. “Look at me.”

He pulled his hand from his face. Her face was soft and she seemed to understand something he did not. But she didn’t see Usopp’s prone body motionless under an attack.

“This isn’t the first time Usopp’s been hurt,” Nami reminded him. “Why does it bother you so much now?”

“I got scared.”

“Scared of what?”

His body is tense and he has to remind himself to let go a little. “Of losing him.”

“Why?”

Sanji scratched at his hair and looked up towards the stars. “I don’t want to lose those in this crew.”

“You haven’t lost anyone.”

“Some days it feels like it’s only a matter of time.” He sighed.

“But why now? Why this minor brawl?”

“He’s—he’s—“ Sanji didn’t know for sure. Distinct was a word that came to mind. Exceptional. Usopp was someone he could be around with no pretenses and no expectations. When he sat near Usopp the fatigues of the day washed away, and when he talked to Usopp he felt heard not just that his words were finding listening ears, but that his existence was being committed to memory. The looks Usopp gave Sanji were whirlpools and hurricanes. They pulled him in, pushed him around, and refused to let him go. And Sanji let them, wanted them too, and hoped they would for a long time. Usopp was –

“Special?” She finished for him.

“Yes.”

She hummed. “Does he know?”

“Know what?”

“That you care about him?”

“I’m a cook it’s in my nature.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Yeah,” he sighed again. “I know.”

“So does he know?”

“I don’t know.” He reached for another cigarette.

“Why not tell him?”

“Why not, indeed?” Sanji asked rolling the cigarette around in his fingers.

Nami pushed back and let her body release gently. She pushed her feet into Sanji’s legs, kicking him back a little. He stumbled and gave her a bold yet benevolent sidelong glance.

“Will you tell him?”

He turned towards the sickbay – towards Usopp. He put the cigarette in his mouth. “Perhaps,” he said. “Perhaps.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of Chapter is from R.E.M's "Feeling Gravity's Pull"
> 
> You are all a dream come true. Your comments and kudos still give me so much joy. 
> 
> If anyone is interested in some cute and whimsical One Piece fanart please check out [MoonGeek's work!](http://www.mailboxislife.tumblr.com)


	9. Wise Enough

Usopp worked diligently and with much patience in his branch office above the kitchen. The sun was warm as it shone down on his back and a pleasant smell drifted from the chimney. He liked the blanketing effect of the surrounding noises from the ocean and the rest of the crew, and that caused him to lose track of time if no one ambled into his workspace – as was the habit of his captain.   Or while he was up here, Nami or Robin, come to check on their respective flora.

He had abandoned his tasks as handyman and was fiddling with small pieces of copper – hammering and folding delicate wires together. What had started as a small side project to take his mind off of general work for the crew had descended into his own personal obsession. During the course of many hours over numerous days, with pricked fingers and small slams of his tools on thumbs, Usopp was finally getting to the end of the matter. He held up the necklace, to better examine the jewelry against the light, feeling pleased and proud of the work so far. The accessory was coming together well, and he expected to have the piece finished by the end of the day, barring no interruptions.

While he lived in Syrup Village he had often created small gifts for Kaya, who received them as openly as the lies he told about their origins and history. They were simple things at first, a small ring or pin, but as he grew older and more dexterous, his gifts became far more elaborate and decorated: bangles and bracelets, earrings and necklaces. Over the years he had created an armada of accessories, and in the process honed a talent.

He cradled the amethyst in his hand as he attached the final wires into place, securing the gemstone into its new home. The metal washed and slithered around the gem in warm tones. From the stone, copper branched around to a solid connecting facet, to create a necklace that hugged the base of the neck. Usopp stroked his fingers over the wires, tracing the design carefully. The stone was cool against his touch, but his handling warmed the filaments of copper. The two textures and temperatures would soon become the same, but for now, he just traced the cool away.

He imagined it would sit heavy and regal over the wearer’s collarbones, resting on the sternum with ease. Usopp fiddled with the swing of the back hoping that the circumference was tight, yet loose enough to ensure maximum comfort.

“That’s very pretty,” Robin’s voice spoke behind Usopp.

He let out a whining scream, flailing his arms and legs as if each had some unique and unknown destination that the others were unaware of.

“What’re–What’re–What’re you doing?” Usopp stammered. “Sneaking up on a guy like that. You trying to kill me?”

“What’re you doing?” She wondered in return, stepping from around him to fold herself into a seated position.

“Working?” He stammered.

“Working?” She asked back. “And what exactly are you working on?”

“Chores?”

“What chores require copper and gems?” She reached out for the necklace and he didn’t stop her.

“Personal chores?”

She picked up the necklace and rotated it in her hands, admiring the details and craftsmanship with her eyes.

“Where did you learn to do this?”

“I’ve been doing it since I was young.”

“Really? It’s quite remarkable.”

“You think?”

“Yes.” She ran a finger over the gemstone in the center. “Who’s it for?”

“Uh,” he hadn’t really planned on giving it to anyone, he was just caught up in the action of making – it calmed his nerves and centered his thinking. “You?”

“Me?” She seemed almost shocked, as shocked as Robin could be.

“Well it doesn’t have an intended owner, and you seem to like it, so I guess that means it was destined for you.”

“Can I try it on?”

“Yeah, of course,” he replied, holding out his hand. She set the necklace in his palm and he showed her how the necklace connected. He handed it back, watching as she slid her hair around to one shoulder and slipped the necklace up against her neck.   When she tried to push the pin into place it slid and moved around her long neck.

She laughed a little trying to get it secured.

“It’s a little tricky,” she confessed as she failed to get the lock to attach.

“Let me,” Usopp offered.

She turned a little to let him access the clasp. It was more difficult when worn, and Usopp made a mental note to fix that. Once he got the latch in place he adjusted the accessory.

“How is that?” He asked.

“It fits like a glove,” she said with a smile. “Perhaps it was made for me.”

Usopp chuckled. He watched as she ran her finger over the metal around her neck.

“I don’t have a mirror,” Usopp confessed looking for something shiny enough to show her her reflection.

“That’s okay,” she said as she looked over her shoulder. “What do you think, Sanji?”

Usopp turned to find the other standing at the top of the stairs. Usopp’s body became stiff and he wondered how long the other had been standing there. He was holding a tray of drinks and a few small plates of snacks.

“Robin-chwan, you are always a beauty of the highest order,” he said as he made his way over to the duo.

He handed off a drink to Robin, who took it gently. Sanji turned towards Usopp and offered him the other glass off the tray, then he set the plates of fruit down on the table and leaned so he could admire the necklace.

“Where did this come from?” Sanji asked.

“Usopp made it.”

Sanji turned towards Usopp who had a small flush of color against his cheeks.

“You made that?” Sanji’s voice filled with a partially hidden admiration.

Usopp nodded and scratched the back of his head, a little more embarrassed.

“That’s impressive. I didn’t know you were such an artisan.”

Usopp watched as Sanji turned back towards the necklace around Robin’s neck. His face softened and Usopp’s heart squeezed at the tenderness he saw there. There was a small smile at the corner of his lips and his eyes were lidded. It made his chest warm to see Sanji look so gentle. Usopp turned to see Robin watching him. She winked at him and he looked away as if she knew his thoughts.

“Enjoy your snack, dinner will be a little bit late tonight,” he said as he stood.

“You never did say what you think of the necklace, Sanji,” Robin asked as he began to walk away.

“It is breathtaking,” he said turning towards Robin. Then he turned towards Usopp and Usopp looked up at him. His face was still that gentle look. “But don’t forget that what interests other is words that enlighten the soul.”

Usopp found he had nothing to say to that and simply stared at Sanji in return. The cook turned and walked back towards the stairs. He disappeared.

When Usopp turned back he saw Robin trying to unclasp the necklace and was having as much trouble as when she was putting it on.

“W-Would you like some help?” He asked, stumbling a little in Sanji’s wake.

“Please.”

He reached and found his hands shaking a little. He seemed to think Sanji had liked the necklace, but something about his last comment left him feeling confused. There was a meaning that he didn’t understand, and that made him feel conflicted. The clasp stuck and he had to force it a little bit harder than he meant.

“I’m sorry,” he said after his knuckle jabbed Robin in the neck.

She hummed an understanding tone back.

He pulled the necklace off and looked at the piece in his hand. He flipped it around contemplatively as his head was trying to decide what his heart was feeling.

“Is everything okay?” Robin asked, standing.

“I’m just confused I guess.” He looked up to see her walking towards a watering can just behind Nami’s tangerine trees.

“What’s there to be confused about?”

“What Sanji said.” He looked down at the copper, trailing over the strands with his eyes as well as his fingers. “Is he trying to say that jewelry can only be as beautiful as the person wearing it?”

Robin was silent as she watered her flowers. Usopp looked back up to watch her as she slowly moved through her garden, tending to and cleaning up. She pulled on some dead buds and leaves, tossing them into a pile. A silence grew like weeds between the two of them; it wasn’t artificial and awkward but natural and nurturing. Robin had a way with words, and without words, and Usopp suspected she was giving him time to come to another conclusion. Only he couldn’t think of one.

“Perhaps what he means,” she said as she made her way back over to him, “is the most precious gems are not made of stone, but of flesh.” She sat back down and picked up her drink, watching as Usopp processed the statement.

“But he –”

“Wasn’t talking about me,” she told him, taking a sip of her drink.

Usopp turned to where he had watched Sanji saunter down the stairs. His mind singled back on to Sanji’s gentle smile, and he found himself wanting to smile with it, but didn’t let himself. He picked up his drink instead.

“You love him, don’t you?”

Usopp spit his drink out. “I – um – what?”

“You’re not subtle,” she said watching him with a smile, a trademark he never fully understood.  “I’m surprised he hasn’t figured it out.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Like what?” She wondered as she drank. “Love?”

“Well, I mean, it is, but it’s not.”

“That seems overly complicated.”

There was easiness in Robin’s posture and expression and Usopp confided in her what he was thinking. “He’s important and talented. I find myself pulled in to his atmosphere as if he’s a black hole. When I see him I’m enchanted and when I hear his voice I get bewitched.” Usopp spun his glass around on the table he and then picked up a grape from the plate and ate it. “When he is happy, I am happy, and when he is sad I want to help him overcome it.” His eyes trailed over to the necklace he had discarded on the table. “He is, simply put, remarkable.”

“That is quite pragmatic of you.”

“I am content with what we have, and would like it to stay as long as possible.”

“You don’t want more?”

“I only want more if he does as well. I am willing to keep what exists because I want his happiness. He lets me in when he is comfortable, and I am comfortable with that. Should I be a part of more than that I would be overcome with excitement. And if he does not wish to continue, I would be happy, because he is decided.”

“How do you know if he does or doesn’t want more?”

“I don’t.”

“Why don’t you ask him?”

“Because he might not tell me. You know how he can be.” She nodded. “But if I let him come to me, he might tell me on his own.”

“So how is that not love and yet love at the same time?”

He sighed. “I love him, and I am in love with him.” He laughed mirthlessly. “The rational love I have is happy that he is experiencing happiness and the irrational love I have is hurt by him not knowing if he loves me back. I suspect he cares for me, but what is it really?”

“There is a way to find out.”

“Yes,” he said with a sigh. “I could always ask him.”

“So,” she hummed.

“What?”

“Will you ask him?”

He turned back towards the stairs. “I don’t know. Maybe?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of Chapter is from Lamb's "Wise Enough"
> 
> Thank you, everyone, for returning and reading. If this is your first time reading welcome, and if you're returning welcome back.


	10. Breathe

Usopp had decided to stay with the Sunny as they approached their next destination. His crewmates were rubbing each other raw, and Usopp needed a moment alone. They anchored as close to the continental shelf as they dared, hovering over the continental rise close to a rocky pass that could be used for a quick exit. The island was small, yet seemed bustling enough, but he was more interested in the small fishing vessels that they passed by on their way in, as well as the two personed rafts that hovered along the coast around of them.

Men and women buzzed to collect nets or fall into the water with spears. Usopp watched their silhouettes against the glittering expanse of the sea as they disappeared below the surface. They moved with skill and precision, singing in a language Usopp didn’t know. But the song was hypnotic and enveloped him, cradling his body like the sea.

They resurfaced with an array of colorful coastal fish and crustaceans that thrived off the surrounding area that was fertile with life and death. The islanders laughed and called out to each other frequently, enjoying the task as well as the day. There was a gentleness to the environment, one not rushed and spoiled but one well experienced.

The sun was warm, and Usopp rolled the braces off his shoulders and let his trousers hang low. He wrapped his hair up higher under his hat, letting the breeze off the ocean swim across his back. The water lapped against the hull with a slap, and the rhythm seemed to match the voices that carried across the water. Each boat around the Sunny sang in tandem with one another, creating an atmosphere with no beginning and no end.

Sanji was the first to reappear on deck, with Franky close behind, together carrying the load of food. They were discussing nothing in general, so Usopp decided to continue his watch of the fishermen – Poseidon’s plein air assistant. He heard the two disappear into the kitchen, and then a few minutes later Franky found a comfortable spot on deck, sipping cola and shading himself below an umbrella.

The morning shifted into noon, and the heat from the sun intensified. Usopp could feel a gentle sheen of sweat collecting on his skin, but he was too interested in the ships and their hunt to do anything about it.

A cold glass touched his arm, and Usopp nearly jumped overboard.

Sanji laughed as he held the glass out again. Usopp took it with a small frown but a grateful thanks before returning to his watch.

“Has anyone returned yet?” Sanji asked when Usopp went to take a sip.

“Just you two.”

Sanji said nothing else as he leaned against the railing next to Usopp, noting the others’ calmness and wishing to leave it intact. The glass sweated under Usopp’s touch. Drinking the cool liquid coated his insides with a chill and for a moment he felt refreshed, but soon the heat dominated the feeling and again he returned to a warm body. He followed this pattern until the glass was ice.

Sanji removed his jacket and loosened his tie. Usopp turned to see him rolling up his sleeves, but like Usopp was just a moment ago, Sanji was staring out towards the sea. His brow was creased just slightly as if he had just remembered something he had forgotten.

“I should have gotten lobster for dinner,” Sanji spoke to his cigarette, to the ocean, but mostly to himself.

Impulse was hardly Usopp’s forte, but improve was, so in one quick motion he toed off his boots and slid off his pants.

“What the fu-” Sanji started before Usopp shoved the nearly empty glass into his hands, throwing off his hat. Taken aback Sanji watched muscles ripple beneath Usopp’s arms and shoulders as he hoisted himself up onto the guardrail of the ship. Sanji stared up the expanse of tight muscle above him before the body disappeared over the edge. Sanji closed in on the railing and leaned over to watch as Usopp splashed into the ocean. A few seconds later, his head broke the surface and he smiled up at Sanji.

“What the hell’re you doing?” Sanji called down.

“You said you wanted lobster.”

“I know what I said, idiot,” Sanji yelled, feeling a rising heat in his face.

“There is a net stuffed in my bag, can you toss it down to me?” Usopp brushed by the insult, wadding in the water expectantly.

Sanji huffed and looked down at the pooling of Usopp’s clothes by his feet. The bag rested off to the side and he snatched it to himself. He opened it to find the recesses filled with all manner of equipment. Small tools and multiple pockets full of various pop greens and boshis – the net just another item of Usopp’s ingenuity and resourcefulness. He pulled the net from the bag and tossed it down to a waiting Usopp.

It glided in the wind as it fell to the water a few feet behind Usopp.

Sanji heard an enthusiastic thanks and watched as Usopp wrapped the net around the anchor’s chain. His body disappeared below the water, and Sanji lost sight of him almost instantly. He kept an eye on the surface and after a few moments Usopp popped up a couple yards from the ship. He swam around a little and then dove back beneath the surface.

Sanji puffed away on a cigarette as his eyes traced the surface of the water, waiting for the shadow of Usopp to appear beneath the surface. A few bubbles gave away Usopp’s location, and a handful of seconds later two arm-sized lobsters broke the water’s tension, followed by Usopp’s infectious smile.

Seized by the exhilaration on Usopp’s face Sanji couldn’t help but smile back. He gave a gentle wave as the other stuffed the crustaceans into the net. He tied it off and set back out. Sanji watched as Usopp glided through the water, arms pushing into the ocean, parting the gentle waves with ease. He dove again.

This pattern repeated itself, each time, Usopp returning with slightly larger and more magnificent crustaceans. He was at ease in the water, turning and rolling like an otter, always making sure Sanji was still watching.

Franky stepped over to watch for a few laps, but became uninterested pretty quickly, and sought shelter from the sun. But Sanji didn’t want to leave, couldn’t leave the sight of Usopp’s lean body and irresistible smile. When the net was full Sanji tossed a rope overboard and watched as Usopp secured the load.

The net was heavy but Sanji pulled it up with no snags. After the lobsters were on board he tossed the rope down to Usopp.

He grabbed on and looked up. “There’s some crabs nearby. Empty the net and I’ll get those next.”

“Are you sure you’re not tired?” Sanji called back.

“I’m good for awhile longer.”

“I’ll be back,” Sanji called down, turning for the haul.

“I’ll be waiting,” he heard from the depths of the sea.

Sanji dragged the net along behind him and emptied the lobster into the aquarium. When he returned to the edge he saw Usopp floating on his back, tranquil and content, chest breaching gracefully with small rises. His arms were still while his legs gently pushed him around. His face was turned towards the sun, goggles pushed above his brows, his eyes closed beneath – Sanji now understood how sailors were lured to their deaths.

“I’m tossing the net,” Sanji called reluctant to break the stillness, waiting for Usopp to respond. The other backed away and waited. Sanji tossed the net down and followed the decent with his eyes. Usopp tied off the net again and disappeared beneath the waves.

Sanji kept an eye on the water, but slowly he drifted to thoughts of Usopp’s body. He could trace the swelling crests of muscles along his shoulders and arms in his mind as he recreated Usopp pulling himself up the railing. Could watch the waves of his obliques as they rippled to the waistband of his close-fitting boxer briefs. Saw the mounds of flesh that rolled beneath thin cotton and breached beneath. Tanned hills of sweeping skin. Sanji covered his face to keep himself in check. He took a deep drag of his cigarette but could feel a rush of blood continue to rise to his face.

Trying to preoccupy himself he scanned the water, looking for bubbles of Usopp’s breath. There were none. So he waited, taking another drag, but after a few more puffs none surfaced. Sanji straightened up, looked harder. There was no movement except the roll of the indifferent sea.

He tried to recall how long it had been since Usopp went under, how long he had gotten distracted by the thought of Usopp. He waited five seconds, then ten. At 15 he was starting to shake. At 20 he stopped breathing. Each second after 20 his heart rate grew exceptionally. 30 seconds elapsed. 45. One minute. He jumped overboard.

The water was a rush against his skin, as he dropped below the surface at great speed. He opened his eyes to bubbles and swam to the surface for clarity. He split the water with a gasp and took a deep breath before he sunk back below. He spun around, pushing against the resistance of the ocean. Sanji tried to keep himself calm, but panic was beginning to rise – filling in the spaces oxygen wasn’t. Then he saw him.

Usopp was near the ship, 10 yards out, maybe 15 feet down. His eyes were closed and he seemed to be floating amongst the blue as if he were one with the water, held carefully by her watery embrace.

Sanji swam for him.

He kicked as hard as he could, watching for any sign of life from Usopp. The other was still – serene almost. Sanji’s heart stopped, but his body kicked on.

He pressed against the pressure of the ocean, reaching, stretching, kicking the current. Cursing the control of the sea. His hands collided with warm skin. He grasped and clutched to anything he could.

Usopp turned towards Sanji, his hands stilling Sanji’s arms. His grip was not tight or rushed. He was in control. Sanji coughed out a breath and sucked in some water. Sanji’s movement wavered.

Usopp’s right arm curled around Sanji’s torso. And then he was pushed back against the water, pressed close to Usopp. His mind muddled. Sanji could feel Usopp cradling him close.  But he came down here for Usopp. Sanji’s vision tunneled in from lack of oxygen. When did he last breathe?

Usopp pushed them both to the surface, and Sanji took a strangled breath with a hard cough. He leaned into Usopp, held aloft by his buoyancy.

Usopp sucked in air as he pulled them both to the ship. Sanji shook out numerous coughs and took many ragged breaths. Usopp pulled his goggles down and wrapped his left hand with the rope from the Sunny. He stared at Sanji. Why had Sanji come to him? What was he doing in the water? Why was he fully clothed?

He was catching his breath as Sanji sputtered, could feel him shutter in his arm. They stayed pressed together as each took stock of the other. Sanji searched Usopp’s face, and Usopp studied Sanji’s red eyes and distressed expression.

“Sanji,” Usopp began.

“What’re you doing, you idiot?” Sanji yelled, pressing against Usopp’s shoulders, dislodging himself from Usopp’s grasp. “Get on the fucking ship.”

Usopp watched, unsure of what was happening, as Sanji determinedly climbed the rope. He followed. Sanji was a statue when Usopp pulled himself over the railing, hands stuffed in his pockets. But when Usopp looked closer he saw Sanji’s body trembling.

“What happened?” Usopp stepped forward, reaching out for the other, closing some of the distance.

Sanji said nothing, his expression receding like the tide before a tsunami. They stood on the deck, dripping and silent; staring at one another. Usopp’s chest heaved a little, and Sanji became transfixed. He watched the rise and fall, rise and fall.

Sanji broke and closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around Usopp’s shoulders and lower back pulling him flush against his body. Usopp froze – stopped breathing, stopped thinking.

“Don’t-Please keep breathing,” Sanji whispered into Usopp’s ear. He wrapped his arms around Sanji in return, could feel some of the tension release under his touch.

“I won’t,” Usopp smiled, rubbing up and down Sanji’s back. Sanji’s shaking subsided as he felt the heat of Usopp’s body and the rhythmic roll of his chest. They stayed together, riding the adrenaline back down to normal.

“What were you doing?” Sanji asked, still pressed against Usopp.

“I was listening.”

“To what?”

“To nothing,” Usopp breathed. “Well it’s not nothing,” he said pulling back a little. “I’m listening to my body. To my heart. Giving myself a reset.”

Sanji broke away first and reached his hands up to Usopp’s face. He framed his features and stared into Usopp’s face, looking for something that Usopp didn’t know. Usopp blushed under the scrutiny but didn’t look away.

“I’m sorry if I scared you,” Usopp whispered, noticing a lingering anxiety in the other’s eyes.

“I wasn’t scared,” Sanji blushed and ripped his hands away while stepping back.

“No?” Usopp teased. “Not even a little?”

“Not even a little,” Sanji yelled.

“But you jumped in with all your clothes on.”

Sanji looked down as if he was unaware. Noticing how the clothes clung, taking in the transparency of his shirt, Sanji was suddenly overwhelmed with embarrassment. Then he looked to Usopp who was wet skin and tight cloth where he could see the binding effect of what little material he wore. He turned away, but could not unsee the lines of Usopp’s lower body.

“Put some clothes on,” Sanji shouted over his shoulder as he stomped away. His shoes heavy with water and his heart hot with ardor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of Chapter is from Telopopmusik's "Breathe"
> 
> I feel so honored by all the continued support and comments. You have all given me extra boots to my motivation by leaving such loving comments. It still warms my heart to see new kudos. Thank you all for enjoying this so much!
> 
> (●´□`)♡


	11. Believing is Art

Usopp sketches in downtime. He sketches on the deck. He sketches in his factory and under the trees. Sometimes he sketches with his legs dangling off the nest. Most of the time the drawings are just preliminary ideas for new modifications, other times its quick gestures of the crew as they go about their days. On rare occasions, he sits down to complete long detailed portraits of the crew – most often without their knowledge.

The easiest targets are Zoro and Chopper; if they’re not busy with their interests, they are relatively still and make drawing simple. Luffy is too bouncy and Robin is too elusive for extensive studies.

But today Usopp is mingling at the dining room table next to Brook. The sketchpad is resting on the table, full of a variety of nonsensical doodles. There is a goldfish with bat wings fighting a merman who has the top half of a tiger fish with the legs of a bodybuilder. There is a sun wearing sunglasses and a moon with a monocle. A cluster of cats is piled together along one side. Along the bottom is a series of small Sanji sketches.

“You should draw a picture of me,” Brook says as Usopp was mindlessly spiraling his pencil around on the paper, listening to the subtle scratch of graphite.

“Okay,” he drawls out turning to face the skeleton.

“Make sure to get my good side.”

“How can you possibly have a good side?”

“Come on, even I can see it, and I have—”

“Don’t,” Usopp groans, “please, god, don’t,”

“Ho-ho-ho,” Brook laughs and he slides from right to left, trying to showcase the variety of his looks.

“You can play the violin if you want,” Usopp told him. “It might keep you from getting too bored.”

Brook picks up the instrument from the table and casually leans into a melody. Usopp flips a page and starts to compose a composition.

As the music fills in, Usopp starts to sketch. He follows curves of the skull and spirals of hair. The delicacy of bone is a pleasant change of pace from the fullness of flesh and muscle. Each vertebra and joint are added challenges that give Usopp something to digest. There exists in a skeleton unique and mesmerizing negative space that challenge his visual language on what is necessary for a drawing and what can be left out.

With every new addition, Usopp can visualize where layers of muscles and fat and skin would have existed. He can begin to see the man that existed long ago. As Usopp sat sketching, he wondered if anyone was still alive who would remember what Brook looked like; if anyone outside of his long dead crew would remember the musical man. Maybe someone in a port remembers a drunken night where some tall stranger sat down and played the piano till morning. Or perhaps a child heard the call of a fiddle and danced at his knees before running back to their parents.

Usopp wondered if in 50 years he would be remembered by anyone, or if he would sink into obscurity. There was a faint fear there. A trepidation that has been around as long as consciousness has existed, as long as man had a language to describe ego, as long as people desired fame. He did not want to be forgotten. Perhaps that’s where all his stories came from. Mythology, epics, lore. They described histories – perhaps embellished, perhaps not – but a little bit of immortality underscored them all. Some kernel of information desired continuation.

More than anything, Usopp suspected, that all he wanted was to be seen. Not by thousands, or hundreds, but by a select handful of individuals. He wanted those on this ship to remember him, as he was, but also, as he could be – a warrior, and an artist; a storyteller and a sniper, his contradictions and his idiosyncrasies; like Brook, being both dead and alive.

The walking skeleton of the group was their memento mori. And here Usopp was, sketching death. He stilled his pencil and examined the man who sat across from him.

When death came for Usopp he hoped it played a melody that would walk him triumphantly to his departure. As much as he would love to rage against his time, to go out in some high and rough firefight, surrounded by his friends as they all ran towards their goals, Usopp would also love to go peacefully next to his beloved.

He turned towards Sanji, who mulled behind the counter, flipping steaks to marinate, and chopping vegetables for some dish. His eyes were lowered to his task, and his constant cigarette rested between calm lips. Sanji’s desire to find All Blue seemed so modest compared to his own desire to be brave.

But what dictates bravery?

Usopp sighed. He didn’t want to start unraveling that wormhole.

Even without eyes, Usopp could feel Brook’s stare. He turned towards the other as the melody never shifted. There was a question forming in the other’s mind, but Usopp didn’t know if he wanted to know what it was. Evading the question seemed the best choice, so he picked up his pencil and went back to work sketching the other.

They went about their tasks without speaking.

Sanji stopped from time to time to watch Usopp draw. It was amazing to see Usopp’s artistic abilities in action. They both possessed unique abilities for using their hands, but Sanji couldn’t draw a straight line with a ruler.

His hands stilled his chopping and he set the knife down silently. He wiped his hands off on the towel over his shoulder and stepped towards the duo at the table. The melody around them was delicate and serene, that created a small soothing bubble for them to relax in.

Once behind Usopp, Sanji peered over his shoulder to see the sketch. The form was basically complete and Usopp was shading in shadows and highlighting hair. Usopp rarely used an eraser and as Sanji watched he could begin to see how the other man’s mind worked through a drawing. There were layers of corrections that peeked out under finalized and defined edges, a few of the early lines were left immortalized next to curves of bone as if the image wasn’t drawn but grown from the page.

Sanji leaned forward and rested his hands on the back of the chair, feeling the heat of Usopp’s body along his thumbs. Usopp leaned back a little and looked up at Sanji. His face was tender and Sanji felt his face soften. When Usopp turned back to his drawing, Sanji leaned down and put his chin on Usopp’s head.

He watched from his perch, as Usopp continued to work.

Unwilling to pull away, Sanji stayed where he was. Brook finished playing and seemed content in sitting no longer. When he stepped his long body up from the chair and peeks over at the drawing, his excitement was full of laughing and he promptly asked if he could keep the image.

Usopp was glad for the praise and let the sketch go, tearing it easily from the others.

Sanji went to return to his work, but Usopp stopped him with the suggestion that he sit down for a little while. Surely the food didn’t need him for a few minutes. Sanji agreed and prepared a few drinks for them – something light and cool to keep the atmosphere peaceful.

“Will you let me draw you?” Usopp asked as Sanji set down a drink for Usopp and himself.

Sanji shrugged and took the seat that Brook had occupied. It was a little unnerving to be the focus of someone’s attention and the moment became pregnant with uncertainty. He could feel where Usopp’s eyes roamed, where they lingered; it was intimate yet detached. There were certain sensations that he knew was anxiety appearing in his body. He could feel all the tension collecting in his neck and shoulders, permeating into his arms and back. Sanji sat straighter and stiffer.

“You can smoke if you want,” Usopp suggested, helping alleviate some tension. It gives him something to focus on other than the dark eyes on him. So he stumbled in his jacket and lit up.

But when Usopp made no move to hold any sort of conversation, Sanji felt a little more at ease, and his body relaxed just a tad into the chair. When he began to sit silently, he noticed how intense his nervousness was. It was hard to sit still. It was difficult to be with himself. He found he didn’t know what to do with his body. He shifted in his seat and then thought he shouldn’t move and tried to remember where his body had been previously.

“You don’t have to worry about moving.”

“Hmm?” Sanji murmured around the cigarette.

“I don’t mind if you move a little,” Usopp said. “This isn’t a formal sketch. I just wanted to draw.”

“It’s weird,” Sanji spoke as he tried to find a comfortable position.

“Drawing is weird?”

“No, I mean,” he shifted in his seat again, “just sitting here, not doing anything. It’s weird.”

“You’re compulsively active.”

Sanji turned towards Usopp. He was bowed over his sketchpad as if he hadn’t said anything profoundly insightful. Sanji was always moving – working, preparing, smoking, executing some task, he never sat down with the intention of just sitting down. Sometimes he found Usopp just sitting. Most of the time he was engaging in a task, but it was always mindfully and with intention. Now, he was drawing, focused on the one task.

Sanji was always doing multiple things all at once, marinating and cutting, he had to have things to remember, or keep things simmering in the back of his mind at all times. So now, sitting still, with nothing to do, he was confronted with himself. And he didn’t know if he liked himself well enough to sit with him.

“You’re tense,” Usopp pointed out.

“Yeah, a little bit.”

“Why?”

“I’m nervous.”

“What for?”

“It’s unnerving to be stared at.”

Usopp set down the pad and the pencil. “Would you like me to stop?”

“I don’t know.” Sanji scratched at the back of his head. He looked down to the table and dusted away imaginary crumbs.

“You don’t have to be anything right now,” Usopp said, coaxing him from his stupor.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t worry about ‘being,’” he quoted with his fingers. “You don’t have to be a fighter or ‘Black Leg’ right now. Right here, right now, there is no pressure for you to be a cook or a provider or a protector. Just sit and be – forget about Sanji, forget about everything else.”

Sanji chuckled, “I don’t know if I can.”

“Then just sit, and be with me for awhile.” Usopp smiled when Sanji smiled at him.

“Perhaps, that I can do.”

Usopp took a second to regard Sanji, his unease may not have drifted away completely, but he stayed sitting. The word brave came to Usopp once again. _I wonder_ , Usopp began, _if being present is a form of bravery?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of Chapter is from Spoon's "Believing is Art"
> 
> Hey everyone who is coming to this chapter out of order, and welcome to everyone who is coming to it in the updated order. I am glad to see you enjoying this work, and I am sorry that my work schedule has taken a turn that leaves me unavailable to work on this fic as much as I would like.


	12. Tomorrow (We Will Meet Once More)

Usopp rarely saw Sanji sleeping, sometimes he wondered if the cook really slept at all. More often than not he saw Sanji getting up from sleep, or just settling in, but never completely, absolutely, resoundingly asleep. At first, he didn’t really believe it and crept closer to get a better look. It was a special privilege to see Sanji asleep and Usopp was careful to make as little sound as possible. The room was growing dark in the dusk, and Usopp found himself tiptoeing over to the beds.

It could have been that between the tasks he told himself he’d get done and the activities doled out to the crew while they were at port had kept him from seeing Sanji all day, but now that he was in the other’s presence he couldn’t let himself leave while he was there.

Sanji was curled into his bunk, blankets pulled up to his nose, his hair splayed out so that his entire face was displayed. Usopp always cherished those moments when Sanji wasn’t hidden behind a scowl, a cigarette, and a curtain of hair. He kept those images hidden yet close at hand, like one of the many boshis he carried in his bag, and viewed them in their entirety when dawn was close at hand but night was still dark or when a quiet moment fell over the ship and he was looking for refuse. Sanji was a safe haven he looked for in a storm. He was the first cup of coffee in the morning or a hot bath after a long day. He was, in part, a habit Usopp loved to indulge in.

Usopp crouched down next to the bunk and folded himself up against the wood, careful to keep the bed from swaying. He rested his head on his knees and watched as the blanket that covered Sanji rose and fell in tandem with his breath. He shifted a little, creating less of a ball and more of a crescent with his body. The contours of Sanji’s body made a cove that Usopp wanted to pool into.

He closed his eyes and imagined snuggling into that bay. It was warm and it was comfortable, and in Usopp’s mind, it was made to fit him. He could nestle into the cave of Sanji’s embrace, his back flush with the other’s chest. Their knees would fold around each other. Time, space, existence would be temporary – on the verge of non-existence. They would form a perfect celestial body and in their wake, they would cause waters to grow tides and mountains to form peaks. Together they would become night and day. In their ebb and flow, Sanji’s destructive force would pave paths so Usopp could form countless acts of creation. This feeling was eager, effervescent, and eternal.

His eyes shot open as he realized how big his feelings were. He knew what they were, could point them out to other’s easily enough, but a level of him, some voice in the distance shouting to him, was telling him he was a fool. Yet he muffled his ears to it and sank down into the warmth the feelings brought him. They were hot like a fire, but they did not erupt like flames do over dry wood, but they spilled into him layer after layer, opening up like a flower does.

He was scared – he knew it. Scared of what love really means, what lust really means, and what the combined forces of those two could do to someone. He could talk a big game, use words to tell a story, or stage a lie, but in this moment, with these feelings, he knew that using language to describe it was arbitrary. Words were messy in a way feelings really weren’t yet words were logical in a way feelings could never really be.

He sighed, caught himself, and looked at Sanji. The blanket covered his face further, so now only his closed eyes showed. Usopp smiled and shuffled a little closer, pressing his chin into the bed next to Sanji. He was careful to keep from poking the other with his nose. He felt like a pet waiting patiently for their human to wake. Perhaps if he wined the other would wake and let him climb in with him. He snorted a small laugh into the bed, careful to make as little sound as possible.

Sanji shifted again, uncovering himself. His eyes opened slightly and Usopp froze – heart stopped. He couldn’t move. Thinking himself invisible never worked, yet he tried anyway. Sanji’s eyes started to smile before his mouth did, and Usopp’s heart, if it could stop a second time would have.

Sanji said his name on an exhale and reached out with a sleepy hand. Usopp heart started beating again, harder and louder than he had ever heard it before, but still, he didn’t move, hoping maybe Sanji was dreaming and not destined to believe that Usopp was some creepy peeper.

His hand touched Usopp’s cheek, cupping his face gently. The hand was warm from the cocoon he had been in, and it caused that blossom of love to bloom again. Sanji sank back down into his pillow and his eyes closed again. Usopp waited to breathe until the hand became slack and drifted back down to the bed.

Usopp rolled his face into the bed and took a few shaky breaths. He could feel the heat from his chest rising into his neck and face. He called himself a slew of insults and told himself to leave. Yet, unable to follow his mind's commands, his body stayed where it sat.

Unraveling himself from his ball, Usopp turned his cheek to the bed that smelled so much like Sanji. The hand before him was palm up, and Usopp looked for that familiar scar. It was hard to see in the dark, but Usopp could find it. He suspected he could find Sanji in the dark no matter what. He sighed, reigned himself in and stood up. He was on night watch and planned to get a quick nap in before dinner.

He pulled off his bag and toed off his boots and climbed into the top bunk of the adjacent set.

 

Sanji woke with precision; his internal cook clock telling him it was time to get dinner together. He had been marinating food since he returned from shopping, and because the ship was unusually quiet and empty he sought to catch a few moments rest. He stretched and groaned, rolling out of the bunk. The floor was chilly beneath his feet, and the cabin was almost dark, leaving him in a strange limbo where he didn’t quite know where he was. He flicked on the overhead lamps and headed to freshen his wardrobe, rubbing his eyes and scratching his head.

He stopped when he felt the presence of another. Sanji looked over his shoulder to see Usopp starfishing his limbs over the edge of the bunk, blanket all but a sash around his waist. He snored away, unresponsive to the lights, unmoved by Sanji. Usopp could fall asleep anywhere at anytime Sanji suspected and he smiled at that thought. He walked over to his locker and jimmied it open quietly. He pulled a cigarette from the pack in his jacket pocket and lit up while he stood. He peered around the door to watch Usopp’s chest rise and fall.

Sanji took a deep drag and blew it out through his nose as he decided on a shirt, his vision pulled away. He shrugged out of his stale shirt and slipped on a clean one. He heard Usopp roll. When he turned back Usopp was pulling his limbs back in while his hair spilled out like a dark halo. Sanji would pray at that Madonna’s feet every day, each morsel of food he created would become an offering; all of his words would honor his name.

He carefully walked over to Usopp’s bunk – his face almost parallel with Usopp’s body as he buttoned up his shirt. Sanji’s inhale and exhale was controlled. He had dreamed of Usopp and was pleasantly surprised to find him sleeping when he awoke.

Sanji didn’t see Usopp during the day, and part of his body found he had missed his absence. Something felt off during his normal routine, and now that they were close he felt a tension he didn’t know he had was gone. His body was loose and free. Like the first cigarette of the day was the best, filling him with a serene calmness, Sanji knew he was addicted to Usopp but sometimes with addiction, he didn’t always know what was causing his ill-mannered temper until he got his fix.

Usopp had both his hands rolled under his pillow, and Sanji wondered what it would be like to be cradled between those arms. Sanji tried to imagine what he would smell like at the crook of his neck, what heavenly scent would descend upon him as he rested. He thought they would mold into one another like roots do in soil like coral does in the sea. They would feed off one another for all nutrients and give life to things they did not have words to describe or senses to experience.

Their form would showcase the interconnectedness of everything. Like fire needed air to burn and how grass needs water to grow, they would do what the other couldn’t. And like the sun shines on with no need for recognition, they would do it because they wanted to because they had to to stay alive.

It would be mythological.

Sanji took a drag of his cigarette and blew it out before he stepped closer to Usopp’s prone form. He grumbled something in his sleep and rubbed his face into his pillow like a cat. Sanji swallowed down his heart. He never understood how love was explained as a roaring fire because for him it was a lot like water about to boil. It rose in temperature around his heart and spread to every limb, where over time, with continued heat it would become a roaring boil, but until then it was anticipation and excitement. The water could become a variety of things: teas, rice, soups, potatoes, and more; but in its nascent state, it was everything all at once.  

Sanji stood close to the bed, but not too close to rock it. A curl trailed over Usopp’s brow and he slowly reached out for it. He held his breath as he lifted the hair and gently put it back. Usopp’s face was rarely calm, rarely still, forever moving in and out of every thought that came into his mind. And Sanji loved it, loved the multitude of expressions. Every brow movement conveyed a magnitude of feelings. Each twist of his lips was a novel – and Sanji wanted to read them for the rest of his life.

He sighed and pulled his hand back to himself. He looked at Usopp one more time before he turned away to get his shoes from under his bed. As he was pulling his socks on he thought of his conversation with Nami. Her insights were spot on, as was her nature as resident navigator, and he thought he might ask her for her opinion on Usopp’s feelings, perhaps she had noticed something he had been missing or overlooked.   He hoped he was not just projecting his feelings on to Usopp’s lingering touches and prolonged looks.

But it would have to wait a little while longer. He stuffed the cigarette into his mouth and finished tying his shoes. He slid his jacket back on and went to get dinner ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of Chapter is from Nina Simone's "Tomorrow (We Will Meet Once More)
> 
> I am honored and humbled by the continued support I receive on this fic. Please don't feel shy about commenting -  
> good or bad! I love you all. All my best.


	13. From The Edge Of The Deep Green Sea

Usopp stood for a couple minutes watching as Sanji and Nami sat close to one another at the kitchen table. They were bowed together thick as thieves – in Nami’s case, it seemed apt. He couldn’t decide if he should step in or step back. They seemed to be discussing something important, by the somber attitude and quiet voices, so he didn’t know if he was welcomed. He leaned forward and then retreated. The floor squeaked out an alerting call.

Nami sat back a little and spotted Usopp.

“Usopp,” Nami spoke with a gentle smile as she waved him over. Sanji sat back but didn’t look Usopp’s way.

He paused mid-step. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Not at all,” Nami said, turning towards Sanji. “We were just discussing flexibility.”

Sanji ground his teeth together; Usopp could almost hear it as he approached the table.

“Flexibility in what, exactly?” Usopp wondered, settling into the chair next to Sanji.

“Nami’s attitude.” Sanji spoke just before Nami responded with: “Sanji’s perspectives.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t ask.” Usopp leaned on the table so he could look between the two of them. She gave Sanji a cryptic look. Sanji stared at her in return. Usopp was beginning to feel like he had interrupted in a big way.

“Would anyone like anything to drink?” Sanji asked with a bit of steel in his voice.

“Tea would be lovely,” Nami smiled.

Sanji paused as he was standing; he turned to Usopp as if to speak then changed his mind and finished the action.

“Do you want tea as well?” Sanji asked as he started away, his steps making a minute, yet annoying, clicking sound. Usopp looked down and saw that Sanji’s shoe had come untied.

“Tea’s fine,” he said while pointing down. “Your shoe.”

Sanji stopped and looked down. “Right.”

With a practiced grace that Usopp recognized from numerous battles but didn’t fully understand in terms of daily application, Sanji folded himself down towards the shoe. With a dancer’s control, Sanji’s body contorted in on itself, his stomach becoming flush with his thighs. His shirt pulled from his waistband where a sliver of dark purple briefs peeked out next to alabaster skin.

Usopp turned away, a heat rising to his face, but then immediately looked back. Sanji was half legs. Usopp imagined that if Sanji tried – hell he wouldn’t have to try – he could press his face between his own shins. His black trousers clung to the curve of ass and left Usopp with only a millimeter’s worth of difference from the flesh below. Usopp swallowed a noise that he suspected would have released from his body as a moan and tried not to find any more swells of skin or muscle.

When he looked away the second time, his eyes caught Nami’s. She was staring at him with a contained mirth, chin resting on her hand as she leaned into him. He froze. Her eyes turned towards Sanji as he stood back up. She blinked slowly and returned to Usopp.

“I’m surprised,” she said.

“B-B-By what?”

“You flush all the way down into your chest.” She stuck a finger out and poked him hard beneath his collarbone.

Dishes clamored behind them and both turned to see Sanji catching a kettle in his hands. His back was to the pair but Usopp could see a faint glimmer of redness along Sanji’s ears. Usopp watched as Sanji filled the pot with water and set it on the stove. He tried not to follow the lines of Sanji’s body, but couldn’t stop himself.

He gripped his hands and turned back around. Nami was watching him intently.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She leaned back.

Usopp couldn’t think of anything to say and sank into a silence. The trio tiptoed around each other as Sanji collected cups and saucers, putting it all together on a tray. The room grew uncomfortable to Usopp and he wished he hadn’t agreed to tea, wish he hadn’t lingered so long in the door. They were clearly having an important or at least intense conversation and he just wanted to join. He was getting a lie together to get out of the situation when the kettle whistled.

Sanji poured water over tea leaves and set it on the tray, bringing it to the table. In his unease, Usopp stood to help at the same time Sanji went to set everything down. They bumped arms and Sanji’s quick reflexes were quick enough to catch the glasses and the saucers, but not quick enough to catch the pot. It tumbled just out of reach, upending itself and shattering over Sanji’s feet, the contents spilling over the floor and Sanji’s ankles.

“Oh, my—“ Nami cried, looking for any injury.

“Don’t worry, Nami-swan.”

“Sanji, that’s boiling water, go get cleaned up and check for burns. Usopp and I can clean this up.”

Sanji began to protest, but Nami ushered him away. He reluctantly stepped out.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered.” Nami turned to Usopp when she heard Sanji’s steps fade away. “It’s different than your typical frazzled.”

“I don’t think that’s a compliment,” Usopp frowned, kneeling to pick up the pieces.

“Do you not want to be cute?” She walked over to find a towel.

“I dunno.” He sighed.

“What if Sanji thought you were cute?”

He picked up a piece and promptly dropped it. “W-Why would you ask that?”

She gave him a hard, knowing look.

“Am I that obvious?” He collected all the large pieces in a pile. “Robin can see it too.”

“Everyone but Sanji, it seems.”

“Why, what does Sanji see?” Usopp’s eagerness was not contained.

“What do you think?” She asked, no sign of knowledge in her voice.

“I don’t know.” He resumed his clean up, a little dejected.

“I think you do.”

“I think he might.” Usopp picked up the largest piece and turned it in his hand. “But I mean what if it’s because—”

“Don’t search for the conclusion to that answer, don’t seek the because. In love, there is no because.”

“But what if—?”

“Again that’s another unknown.” She leaned down next to Usopp and began to mop up the tea. “Try love. Try to love and to be vulnerable – to be alive. Take that step.”

“How do you know if it will work? How do you know if he likes me? Do you know if he does?”

“Would you want me to tell you if I knew?”

He cradled the pieces in his hands. He shook his head. “No. And I don’t know if I’d believe you if you did.”

“Then be brave, Usopp, be brave.”

 _Brave?_ He thought. He sighed and finished cleaning up the kettle. Nami wiped up the floor behind him and when they were done they searched the cupboards for another teapot. With neither one having much experience in Sanji’s refuge, they had difficulty finding one.

“Try that cabinet,” Nami suggested, pointing to the one closest to the refrigerator.

“It’s actually the one below that,” Sanji’s voice called behind them.

They both jumped a little as if they had been pilfering the supplies and not dishes. Sanji escorted them back to the table, offering them apologies for the delay. They tried to tell him it was no big deal, but he seemed a little put out by their sincerity.

Sanji would be hard to spoil, Usopp mused. He liked so much to please others that he rarely indulged in anything for himself. But, Usopp thought, I will try to find something.

Sanji went to work at boiling more water. Nami and Usopp sat back down at the table. Usopp turned to watch for a moment and then turned back to Nami. She was tracing a pattern on the table, and Usopp figured it was related to her maps.

He ventured a guess and asked her. “How are your maps coming along?”

She straightened up and had a particular gleam in her eye. It was refreshing to see, she was almost always working on them in private that he sometimes forgot that her dream was to map the world.

She began to talk in earnest about the process, and even as the technical jargon was lost on Usopp, he could see the passion she held for cartography and nautical charts. He was unaware of the vast knowledge required and was floored by her memory. What he took for granted she understood in nuances he would never understand.

“So what will you do when your atlas is complete?” Sanji asked when he brought over a steeping pot of tea.

“What do you mean?” Nami asked.

“I mean, what comes after you’ve completed your work?” He sat down and reached for a cigarette.

“I’ll start over.”

“Start over?” Usopp asked.

She nodded. “Of course.”

“Why would you do that?” Sanji asked while sitting back. He rested his arm along the back of Usopp’s chair.

“Because the sea changes all. She weathers down coastlines and changes sea floors. What will have been an island may become two. Where a river spills into the ocean waves may have moved. Clumps of rock fall and volcanoes erupt.” She had a habit of talking with her hands, and Usopp followed them like her story. “Nothing in the ocean is ever still. If she has taught me anything, it is that nothing is permanent. Each connection is precious and rare.” She looked between Usopp and Sanji. “But I may have found something more important than charts.”

Sanji placed his cigarette in his mouth and began to fill the cups with a rich black tea. He mixed in just a dash of milk to Nami’s cup, into Usopp’s his beloved milk and sugar, and Sanji, Spartan of all, just tea.

“What would that be?” Sanji asked when she did not offer up the answer on her own.

She smiled, her eyes moved into the middle distance as if she were compiling an image. “Another family – a crew. A place to belong.”

“I do believe that makes you a romantic,” Sanji said, leaning back again, putting his arm back around Usopp’s chair.

“I do believe you’re right.”

Sanji lifted up his cup. “To the Straw Hats.”

Usopp smiled and lifted his own. “To the Straw Hats,” he agreed.

“To love,” Nami said.

They clinked their glasses and Usopp leaned back in his chair, hitting Sanji’s hand.

“Excuse me,” Sanji said, starting to pull back.

“Don’t worry about it,” Usopp spoke gently. And Sanji settled his arm back. Usopp’s hair caught between him and Sanji’s arm, so he leaned forward, removed it, and nestled back. He could feel the warmth of Sanji’s hand along his back. Sanji rotated his arm and traced his fingers along the lines of Usopp’s back.

Usopp smiled into the face of his cup. Sanji’s fingers made circles along his skin. As Usopp sat with Sanji and Nami he understood why he left Syrup Village in the first place – adventure, exploration, excitement; and to do that he had to be willing to leave shore. So it was about time for him to let go of the safety of harbor and fill his sails with wind and set out, for it was those who ventured into the horizon that found their true homes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of Chapter is from The Cure's "From The Edge Of The Deep Green Sea"
> 
> Thank you all so much for continuing to support this endeavor. I am beyond thrilled to see you all returning, or to see new people just settling in. All my best to all of you. Much love. <3


	14. Garoto de Ipanema

Usopp had his head resting in Sanji’s lap. The crew had stopped at an island to stretch their legs and spend some time away from each other. Nami and Robin had headed off to find somewhere quiet to stroll through. To scout the coast, Nami interjected. Possibly explore ruins if there were any, Robin added. Franky, Chopper, and Brook lounged around a small fire, engaging in playful banner and lyric making – to which Chopper was the surprising lyricist. Luffy and Zoro were, hopefully, not lost. Their shouting had grown further and further away, which worried Sanji only the teeniest of bits.

Sanji was pulling on Usopp’s curls, winding them around his fingers, one after another, testing each ringlet and spiral. Usopp rambled on about a (mis)adventure from his youth that involved all manner of typical tall tales. Heroes and damsels. Monsters and booty. He even went as far as to include a multi-headed, multi-armed god for good measure. The main protagonist was, of course, a thinly disguised Usopp, who fought hard and won harder. Sanji could feel his eyelids drooping, and his mind wandering towards the fire that crackled to his left, and the ocean that lulled him on his left.

“Am I that boring?” Usopp asked as Sanji’s head fell forward, waking him from his doze.

“I’m listening,”

“Uhuh,” Usopp said behind a large yawn.

“Seem you’re boring yourself, as well.”

“Jokes on you, I know the ending.”

“We all know the ending, great captain Usopp.” The title full of nothing but tenderness.

Usopp stretched and pressed his head stiffly into Sanji’s firm legs. His eyes closed and, in what seemed like an instant, Usopp had fallen asleep. The man’s pressed gently along his lap as his legs stretched out. Usopp had his legs still folded, dropping open against the ground.

Sanji enjoyed the softness of the tresses between his fingers, pulled the coils so they bounced. He created and destroyed many different combinations of patterns along his legs. He piled the hair into a large ball. He splayed it out in the pattern from the canopy, weaving them between the sunlight drifting from above.

He heard rustling behind him. He tensed, listening. Part of his body was ready to fight, but another part of him could not sense an authentic danger and that made him conflicted. Should he wake Usopp by moving, or trust his judgment that it was no real threat? He listened to the noises further, heard a few muttered words and then a hearty laugh. Sensing no real risk, and suspecting the voices were his comrades, he continued to play with Usopp’s hair.

Then he heard it; their Captain’s voice and he relaxed fully, leaning back into the tree with more ease. Zoro grunted as he tripped and Sanji could imagine the look on his face, one of disbelief and anger as if the cause was put there on purpose, and it made Sanji grin.

A red flower drifted down from above and he turned to see the two others carrying arms full of different varieties of flora. Intermixed were a plethora of fruits, and hanging off Luffy’s back was some wild game, hopefully edible, Sanji mused. The flower dropped into Sanji’s lap by Luffy’s stretched arm.

He glared as they approached, hoping to keep their noises to a minimum. The two sprinkled the flowers over Sanji with controlled excitement and contained laughter. As Sanji eyed the two, Zoro’s eye glinted with mirth as well as a dare. He could tell that Sanji didn’t want to move, and kept up his onslaught of raining buds. They tossed them haphazardly towards the resting pair, making sure each one struck Sanji in the face, or close enough to it, knowing Sanji wouldn’t dare move. Sanji couldn’t figure out how they knew Usopp was asleep, but he suspected it was due to Luffy’s irresponsible use of his multiple haki.

The flowers did nothing to stir Usopp, who had not moved from his position. The petals fell around his head in a rainbow of colors, highlighting and contrasting his dark skin and darker hair. He heard the two depart after their onslaught of flora.

Sanji reached out slowly and picked up the first flower, examining the petals. It was deep red at the center, bleeding into a robust rouge at the edges. He stroked the petal and felt the suppleness. He rotated the bud and brought it to his nose, the fragrance was delicate.

On a whim, Sanji rested the rose next to Usopp’s temple. The small flower transformed the man into the god of beauty, a perfect Adonis. One by one, Sanji began to neatly rearrange the flowers so they formed a more cohesive and ascetically tasteful arrangement around Usopp’s head. He picked up the most vibrant and moved them towards the other’s crown, the paler pastels near his ears. Testing his luck, he began to break the stems and tuck them into the curls. Starting near the top of his head and working deliberately to recreate the pattern.

He heard a twig crack and looked up to shush the onlooker. Franky stood at the trunk of a tree close enough to be seen, but far enough away to not be an intruder to the tender moment – his eyes beginning to mist with emotions. Sanji held up a finger to keep the other from letting out an affectionate wail. The mechanical man gave him his hand palm up to appease him but didn’t seem to want to move. Sanji returned to the task, arranging and rearranging the flowers in Usopp’s hair.

He sensed Franky’s presence but did nothing to try and make him leave. He continued to work until he felt a greater group forming in the peripheries of his vision. Chancing a glance, he could see the whole crew had assembled where Franky was, each one with a different gleeful expression plastered across their face. Sanji could feel his face grow hot in embarrassment. He knew he was red and couldn’t formulate a way to hide it. He wanted to groan and yell for them to leave, but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He did not want to wake Usopp. So he rolled his eyes and turned away.

He heard a muttered voice say something, and another person gave a hummed acknowledgment. His hands shook a little as adrenaline washed through him. This moment was now a memory for all. He was the hopeless romantic they all knew, but before, one of silly nosebleeds and heart eyes played off on foolishness, was now syrupy sentimentalism he tried hard not to indulge in.

He had been caught being sappy and felt a little like he had done something wrong, but when he looked at Usopp’s sleeping face, saw the framework of flowers, that sappiness turned to reverence. Usopp was an idol. Flowers thrown to the feet of a man greater than anyone alive, a living legend. The Great Captain Usopp. Sogeking – emphasis on king.

Intent not to be undone by his feeling, he weaved around the stems, working to keep as many as secure as possible.

“How long is he going to be?” He heard Luffy’s aspirated voice. “I’m so hungry.”

“Don’t disturb them,” Franky said with a hitch in his voice.

“Come on,” Luffy wined. Sanji heard Luffy’s stomach grumble, even at their distance.

“I’m sure he won’t be too much longer,” Robin attempted to placate him.

Luffy groaned.

Sanji shot a look to them, as their voices began to rise.

“Hohoho,” Brook’s sing-songy laugh began. “I can see that stern brow from all the way over here –“ _don’t you dare,_ “and I have no eyes!”

He glared a little harder.

“Just the type of idiocy from our shitty cook.” Zoro continued.

As if on cue, the rest of the team began a verbal roast of Sanji’s tender actions. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest being unable to silence the taunts and keep Usopp from waking. He clenched his teeth and muffled a groan. The crew progressively moved a little closer, as each person took turns coming up with new and more imaginative jokes. Calling him “the crowning achievement” of their crew and a “reluctant gourmet” the latter being “too bland to comment on”.

He rolled his eyes at most and eventually lost it at “the garnishing prince”.

“Shut up,” he roared. Usopp jolted from his position a few flowers floating from his hair. The group laughed in unison, and Usopp’s frazzled brain didn’t know what to do. He searched for some attacker, but only found clenched sides and gaping mouths. They only thing harming them was a laughing fit.

He turned to Sanji, his face red with some contained anger, but when he cool eyes found Usopp’s face, the ice was replaced with warmth– the blue no longer arctic, but azure, the color of warm Mediterranean seas. His expression seemed stunned and awe inspired. Usopp felt the expression more than saw it, the pure radiance left him more dumbfounded than when he heard Sanji’s outcry.

He tried to read Sanji’s expression, but couldn’t. If he could describe pure adoration, the words wouldn’t seem like enough. What he saw was intoxication, wonder, and overwhelming allurement.

“W-What?” He stuttered out. “Is there something on my face?” He reached up to touch his cheek, but Sanji stopped him.

“Just one second.”

The laughing subsided, if just to Sanji, or if the group had stopped he couldn’t tell. He had been slightly bored when he had started to arrange the flowers, but when Usopp had sat up and looked at him, he couldn’t quite believe his eyes. Ethereal and transcendent were the only words Sanji could manage to think.

He blushed when he realized how intently he was staring, had some sense to be bashful when he could see Usopp’s face begin to transform from the scrutiny.

The group managed to look slightly embarrassed when Usopp stood. Robin was the only one still obviously looking their way. He reached up and felt the crown of flowers adorning his hair. His face warped into befuddlement, and he pulled one free. He turned it over in his hand and then looked over his shoulder to Sanji, who was standing up.

His eyes caught Sanji’s and they stared at one another.

“Did you put these in my hair?” Usopp asked with a little bit of skepticism, but more tenderness escaped than irritation.

Sanji nodded and reached for a cigarette in his jacket.

“It was so touching!” Franky cried, hopping over to the two and pulling them into his wide body. The two were pressed firmly against his chest; faces smooched against his hard body – the flowers beginning to drift from their bind in a delicate flourish. “Oh no!” Franky wept, removing the two to try and get the flowers back in order.

“It’s quite okay, Franky,” Sanji spoke.

“It’s not!”

Usopp said nothing, couldn’t think of anything but the feelings that spread through his body. Warm tendrils of tenderness rooted him to the spot. He examined the red flower in his hand.

“When can we eat?!” Luffy howled.

“I’ll start making it now,” Sanji moved around the group towards the pile of food left unattended. “What’s this animal?”

“I think it’s like a bear.”

“Could make a decent stew,” he muttered as the group followed. They arranged themselves around the flames as Sanji began to strip the animal.   Brooke and Franky went to collect more wood for the fire.  

Usopp floated over to a spot next to the fire, his thoughts lost as he tried to imagine what he looked like. Nami sat down next to him and removed a flower from his hair.

“It’s quite the look, Usopp,” Nami said. “Perhaps you should start a new trend.”

“How does it look?” He turned to her.

“Divine.”

He blushed a little at the thought. Is that how Sanji saw him? He pulled another one from his hair, examining it closely. Chopper came to stand next to him and pulled another from his hair next. He muttered about the properties in it and asked if he could take it. Usopp nodded, afraid his words would betray him. Each blossom he pulled from his hair he eyed distinctly, feeling each one as a declaration from Sanji. He laid the collection in his lap. The light was turning towards dusk, and the glow of the fire gave the mood a comfortable glow, sobering the mood from one of illicit humor to gentle coziness.

As Sanji was dropping meat and vegetables into the pot pulled from the ship, he glanced at Usopp pulling slowly pulling the flowers from his hair. Sanji would never forget the image of Adonis in the shape of Usopp. He tucked it away, next to his cigarettes, just in front of his heart.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of Chapter is taken from Antônio Carlos Jobim & Vinícius de Moraes' "Garota de Ipanema" (I changed the pronoun for this)
> 
> Thank you all for coming back, it's glad to be back to a weekly schedule, even if I had a little bit of difficulty to get back into the swing of things. All of the comments have been such inspiring pushes to keep me going. I hope you all have had a good week, and I can't wait to hear what you think. For all you kudo-ers, thanks for your support!


	15. Wild Is The Wind

Usopp was leaning on the railing near the main mast watching as dark clouds crowded the horizon. There were flashes of light and distant hums of thunder. Nami had told the crew to be on guard for a change in weather, and like always she was spot on. The wind was only just beginning to pick up with quick and strong bursts of speed. It pulled at his clothes and tossed his hair. Attempting to plan ahead, Usopp was waiting for Nami’s directions for the possibility to pull in the mainsail.

The waves were becoming sharper – the Sunny moving with more difficulty across the uneven surface. His stance was still loose but he knew the ship would soon fall and careen beneath him as they began to move into darker waters. He could hear Chopper’s minor complaints as he moved around the deck about seasickness. Nami gave them about half an hour until the ship met with the center of the storm, but as was the nature of the New World everyone took that prediction with some skepticism.

He waited it out above the kitchen, a place that he found himself coming back to time after time, and not just to eat and be merry with the crew, but in moments of downtime and in moments of need. And he was waiting, waiting like he always does, for the right moment – the right time. And Usopp was realizing now, in the minutes leading up to one of the countless storms they had weathered as a crew, waiting for the future seemed like a bad joke, and Usopp did not like bad jokes.

He heard footsteps on the stairs leading up to his location, and he did not need to turn to know that gait.

“Come to enjoy the weather?” Usopp asked Sanji.

“What can I say? I enjoy the rain.”

“I get the feeling we’ll be getting a lot of it.” He pointed towards the clouds that were creeping their way towards the Sunny. The wind picked up a little, and Usopp pulled off his hat so it wouldn’t get lost in the sea. Sanji walked to where Usopp was and leaned against the railing. They stood shoulder to shoulder, waiting for something to happen. They talked about everything, and nothing, making a wager on when they thought the storm would make it to them. Sanji was convinced it was less than 10 minutes out; Usopp was more robust thinking more than 15.

“What does the winner get?” Sanji asked.

“You think you’re going to win that much?”

Sanji shrugged with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Fine,” Usopp gave a dramatic rub to his chin. “Winner gets to pick their prize.”

“Vague,” Sanji said. “But I’ll take it.”

They shook.

The wind was pulling up mist from the waves, and it was spackling them as they stood. Usopp had the feeling, as the boat tipped, that he was going to lose.

As the wind came in and blew Sanji’s jacket open like a sail, the tie clip gave up and whipped Sanji’s tie into Usopp’s face. The point of the tie struck Usopp on the cheek and mouth, flapping around for good measure.

“For real?” Usopp wined, slapping the tie out of his face.

“I don’t control the wind,” Sanji laughed, trying to get the tie attached back. As soon as the tie was stuffed back into his jacket and the pin reattached, they laughed a little bit at the absurdity of it.

But when Sanji leaned forward again, the tie reached for Usopp, hitting him, this time, along his neck.

“I swear to god,” Usopp said stuffing the tie into Sanji’s breast welt pocket. “Move downwind of me.”

Sanji turned towards Usopp slightly affronted. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me move downwind of me.”

“No,” he turned back towards the oncoming storm. If to cause a point, the tie winded its way back over to Usopp. Usopp grabbed it and tugged Sanji off balance.

“I don’t like this hitting me in the face. Who wears a tie in this day and age anyway?”

“People who aren’t monsters.”

“You’re basically a monster.”

“And if I stood downwind of you, all that hair would be continuously getting in my face.”

“I don’t care,” Usopp pulled on the tie again, tightening it around Sanji’s neck. “It’s like a little whip, the end is sharp. What if it hits me in the eye and I go blind, then I’ll be useless to the team.”

“Aren’t you already?”

“Oh a wise guy,” Usopp chided, tugging on the tie again. This time it pulled Sanji well within Usopp’s space, and he had to look up to see Sanji’s face. He could feel Sanji’s chest press against his knuckles each time he breathed, and the puff of his breath was warm on his forehead.

Sanji’s eyes lidded as he looked down at Usopp, and Usopp felt his hand tighten on the tie as he looked into dark eyes. He tried not to look at Sanji’s mouth, but he couldn’t stop himself. Sanji licked his lips. Usopp didn’t know if he was from nerves or seduction, but something in him cracked father and farther apart.

“What’re you doing?” Usopp whispered.

“What’re you doing?” Sanji offered in return.

“Nothing.”

“No?” Sanji’s body moved closer.

“No.” Usopp followed in.

Sanji’s hand found his on his tie, but he didn’t do anything to remove Usopp’s. Instead, he rubbed a finger over the inside of Usopp’s thumb as his fist held tight. The touch was slow and tantalizing.

“What do you plan on doing with that tie?” Sanji’s face leaned down a little. “Trying to undress me?” Sanji’s breath hotter over his brow as me moved closer. Usopp could feel the whisper of touches from Sanji’s rough facial hair. Usopp swallowed hard. The boat rocked a little beneath the two of them, and each of them made sure they steadied themselves as close as possible.

Usopp tried to clam his beating heart with a joke. “You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

But it backfired when Sanji’s exhaled, “Yes.”

He looked up and found Sanji’s eyes were darker than before, and Usopp was pulled right in. He felt his free hand reach out, his fingertips running up the seam on the outside of Sanji’s trousers. Sanji’s hand was walking down Usopp’s arm, his fingers hot. His hand pulled the tie tighter, and Sanji’s mouth opened next to his ear with a wet pop.

“Would you kiss me if I asked?” Sanji’s voice was low, barely above a sigh. Usopp could hear him swallow, preparing to speak again. “Would you let me if I begged?”

Usopp’s pulse crashed into his ribs. He could feel his body growing hot. Was he rocking or was that the boat?

“You—” he licked his lips and swallowed. “You wouldn’t have to beg. But I don’t think I’d stop you if you did.”

Sanji’s laugh was throaty.

“Usopp,” Zoro’s voice was loud behind the two of them.

Usopp pushed on Sanji and let out a loud and long groan as he turned around in a whirl of arms and hair. “I wasn’t doing anything.”

“I didn’t ask,” Zoro said. “Nami’s looking for you.” He pointed over his shoulder to accent his point.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Usopp repeated like a mantra, never turning around as he left as quickly as possible. On his way down the stairs, he could hear the beginnings of a fight starting between Zoro and Sanji.

“What is that look for, shitty ero-cook?”

“I am going to kill everyone you have ever talked to,” Sanji shouted.

“You realize that includes you, right?”

“I know who it fucking includes!”

Usopp could see the flame of Nami’s hair standing at the helm. He slithered over to find Nami discussing strategies with Franky. She turned to see him and gave him a quick once-over.

“You look frazzled,” she said with what sounded like a knowing tone.

“I’m fine, just fine, nothing’s wrong with me. Peachy-keen, tip-top, you know.”

“Sure,” she said. “I need you to watch the horizon and let Franky know when waves are coming in and from where.”

“No problem.”

Franky gave a lengthy and standard super.

It wasn’t long until they watched waves crash into the face of Sunny. Franky was steering well to keep the ship from tipping over as wall after wall of water began to rise higher and higher. Usopp called out the rising tide when he could, but when the storm above them opened up, releasing a deluge of water, the differences between sky and sea were harder to differentiate.

In seconds he was soaked, his clothes weighing him to the deck. He wiped water from his brow and tightened his hair. The ship careened forward and pushed into the crest of a wave, splashing a torrent of water over them both.

He could barely hear Luffy’s laughing behind him or Nami’s aggressive commands to the rest of the crew. The sail thrashed as it was being drawn back in where it became indistinguishable from thunder. Waves jumped onboard and pulled Usopp’s legs out from under him and Franky caught him just before his head could hit the deck. The helm twisted out of his grasp and both reached for it at the same time.

Usopp’s arms pulled back as hard as he could, and Franky leaned with his weight to try and correct their position. There was nothing to hear but the hissing of his heart in his ears and the beating of the tide. As close as Franky was, he could not understand a word he said.

Together they saw the swell.

Franky and Usopp turned to see Nami’s collected features; in these moments it was when Usopp was the most in awe of her bravery. She turned to the rest of the crew and they all braced for impact. Franky threw a protective arm around Usopp who grabbed onto the helm. Lighting cracked, and the wave’s silhouette began to circle over them.

It descended. Broke. Flooded the deck.

Usopp wrapped his arms around the helm and held on as a second, slightly smaller wave crashed over them. He grunted against the pressure, choked on water, but held on.

Franky moved to pull the helm and steer them from capsizing. Usopp did what he could, but the water made his fingers slip and his shoes slide. He looked towards the ocean; a crack of lightning blinded him as he felt thunder reverberate through his entire body.

They were in the eye of the storm.

Nami did her best to call out directions, but as the wind and waves wound together, it was almost pointless at their distances. They moved as best they could, trying to keep those susceptible to seawater on the decks – which was difficult with Luffy’s need for adrenaline.

Usopp doesn’t know how long they kept the ship moving, but after awhile, the rain gave way to drizzle and eventually to broken clouds. They cleared the worst of the storm and broke the weather. The clouds moved on and sunlight glittered in as the crew caught their breath. The deck became awash with light and heat as they moved farther from the storm. Fatigued, Usopp dropped to his knees. His arms were sore and his back hurt, but overall he was fine if a little waterlogged.

Franky sat down next to him, still slightly out of breath and just as haggard looking. They grinned at one another and let out an easy laugh; they high-fived and rested. Nami called their names a few minutes later and they looked up to see her climbing the stairs carefully. She was as soaked at the rest of them. She smiled and gave them a vigorous thumbs up.

“All accounted for?” Usopp asked.

“All accounted for,” she told him.

He let out a sigh and fell back. The blue sky seemed particularly blue. Franky let out a soft groan as he stood and together with Nami they left. He closed his eyes and began to remember an almost kiss. His eyes shot open and he shivered as a cool breeze trailed over his wet body. He rolled over to his side as his body progressed into a more painful territory. Getting to his knees was a challenge and standing up was difficult.

Each step he took was weak and he clung to the railing as he descended the stairs. At the bottom of the stairs, Sanji stood with his back to Usopp, puffing away on what he expected was the only dry cigarette he could find. He didn’t turn when Usopp started towards the men’s quarters.

“Don’t forget,” Sanji spoke causing Usopp to turn. Sanji was looking towards him, hands in his pocket. “I won.” Usopp swallowed yet didn’t turn back around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of Chapter is from Nina Simone's "Wild Is The Wind"
> 
> You are all amazing and wonderful. I am floored by your continued support. Thank you all so much for reading, and I hope I will see you all again. All my best.


	16. Closer

Usopp found he had been avoiding Sanji since his win. As much as he longed for the other man, he was still hesitant to give in to his feelings. He couldn’t tell if it was fear of reciprocation or his own lack of complete understanding. For during Usopp’s life he was always afraid, and the unknown scared him more than anything. His fear manifested out of want. Want of connection. Want of strength. He wanted so much and that scared him the most. So for him, to fear love was just another addition on his long list of terrors, but he was recognizing that that fear was smaller than what he was feeling for Sanji.

But here he sat – fishing, or more precisely he was sitting with Luffy as they tossed down lines into water that was smooth as glass. The Sunny had been mostly still for the last two days, as neither crew nor environment seemed content to move. The warm sun made the pair lazy, satisfied to just watch as their bobbers never moved. Though, if truth were told, Usopp would have liked a little wind – some momentum.

“You two are lively,” Zoro spoke, spooking Usopp out of his trance.

“How can you be so large and still be so quiet?”

“Calling me fat?”

Usopp turned around to see the other pushing a bottle to his lips, his eye laughing. Usopp gave a disgusted grunt and looked back to the ocean. Luffy let out a small snore, and Usopp found the Captain’s head tipping back, his mouth falling open.

He blinked at him and then turned towards Zoro, who gave a small shrug, neither surprised nor worried.

“I thought he was unusually quiet. But his eyes were open last time I checked.” Usopp reached out and pulled on one elastic lid. It snapped back. Luffy never moved.

“How does he stay upright?” Zoro asked, leaning on the opposite side. He pushed the neck of his bottle into a soft side. Luffy’s body remained upright.

Both were unaware as Luffy’s arms leaked down towards the deck and around each man’s waist. Luffy locked his knees and shins around the spokes of the railing. In a fluid drop, he latched around Usopp and Zoro’s waist and propelled all three over the side of the ship.

Usopp and Zoro screamed in unison, cursing and praying to any god, demon, and spirit in the area. The wind rushed by. Usopp grasped onto Luffy’s stupidly soft and squishy body with all this strength. His hair dipped into the water and like a bungee cord, they rocketed back to the deck. Zipping by portholes as fast as they had fallen.

He was bodily thrown on the grass, Zoro a pile next to him. Luffy laughed, his back arched as he looked at them from his hanging position. His smile was not infectious.

“Ugh,” Zoro grumbled, rolling to his hands and knees. “I hate you.”

Usopp ripped the bottle free from Zoro’s clutch, hoping that some of the alcohol would drown out his adrenaline. It was empty. He tossed it away and rolled over onto his back, splaying out into the sun, hoping to shrivel up and die to stop his racing heart.

Sanji’s face peered over the side from above, mildly interested in their antics. Usopp smiled and part of Sanji’s face crinkled into a grin. They regarded each other before Sanji pressed away from the railing and disappeared. Usopp sat up.

Luffy and Zoro were bickering about Luffy’s rubber body as Usopp turned to face them properly, his body now calm.

“I was going to ask,” Zoro patted his jacket and then his haramaki, before pulling out a deck of cards, “if anyone wanted to play before I was so abruptly tossed around.”

Luffy and Usopp cheered a response, having given up on their prospects of catching fish. With that, the group descended into a slow round of cards. What began as poker quickly faded as each new hand, became more and more ambiguous. Bets were halfheartedly placed as now one had currency or anything to wager. Usopp’s body slunk closer and closer to the ground, stretching out between Luffy and Zoro. His head came to rest on one of Zoro’s folded knees, and his feet found their way to Luffy’s lap.

“I can see your cards, idiot,” Zoro said.

“Then it may help you win a round,” Usopp said, shuffling around the order.

“What’re we playing?” Luffy asked, having spent most of the last two hands just taking cards at random.

“I don’t even know,” Usopp confessed. “Is it poker still?”

“Are you guys for real?” Zoro complained.

Usopp shrugged. “We’re not betting on anything anyway.”

“We could,” Zoro suggested.

“Why bother?” Usopp pulled out an ace from the pile.

“We could use food?” Luffy excitedly exploded.

Usopp shrugged again.

“Well, we don’t all have the luxury of getting snacks whenever we want, Usopp.” Zoro sounded bitter

“I don’t either,” Usopp said, sliding the card next to a ten.

“For real?”

“Well I mean, I don’t get in trouble, if that’s what you mean.”

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

He laid his cards on his chest to find Luffy giving him a hungry stare.

“You could get us food,” Luffy’s mouth began to water as he spoke.

“What?” Usopp shook his head. “No, I can’t.”

Luffy drooled.

“He doesn’t have to,” the group heard. They all turned to see Sanji standing with a platter of food and a few bottles of beer. “Would you like some?”

Luffy jumped to his feet, knocking Usopp’s legs off his own. “What is it?” He asked as the tray was pulled away from his expanding mouth.

“Just some fries.” He passed a plate to Luffy then tossed one down to Zoro, for Usopp he leaned down so he could hand one off. Their fingers touched. If on purpose or on accident, Usopp did not care; it was eclectic and magnetic. He wanted to pull away and yet snap close.

“Is that an eye joke?” Zoro remarked.

“Well, _I_ don’t know,” Sanji stressed the vowel. “I guess it could be if you _looked_ hard enough.” And he knocked the side of a bottle into Zoro’s optical bone. The sound was soft yet solid. Zoro ripped it away. Sanji set the others next to Usopp’s side, well within Zoro’s reach, but he’d have to work a little for it.

“Ahh-hah-“ Luffy breathed around a mouthful of potato. “These are hot.”

Sanji just gave their captain a satisfied look, as if his food was to be enjoyed immediately with no regard to temperature. Usopp’s chest bloomed warmth. The cook folded the tray under one arm and left, sparing a small glance over his shoulder as he left.

“I think he’s still mad,” Zoro said, plucking a few fries off his plate.

“For what?” Usopp asked, reaching for a beer.

“Because I interrupted your guys kiss.”

Usopp slammed the bottle down with surprise. “We-We-We weren’t about to kiss.”

“Sure.”

Usopp sat up. “I mean, we were close, but we never had really decided if –“ he stuttered to think of anything at all. “Well, the thing is . . . ”

“You don’t owe me an explanation, what you two do in your downtime is your business.”

“We’re not doing anything.”

“What?” Luffy spat out some food. “You’re not doing anything?”

“Well, we hang out sometimes.”

“Yeah, we all do,” Zoro remarked. “But you two,” pointing between Usopp and the space Sanji had occupied, “you’re something else.”

“We’re not something else,” he quoted with his fingers.

“For real?” Zoro’s face was shocked.

“For real,” Usopp said.

“Oh.” He picked a potato off his plate. “Well, I just figured you didn’t want to tell us.”

“Yeah,” Luffy choked out. “We just thought you guys were waiting to tell us when you were ready.”

“Why do you guys think that? Is it because we’re close all the time?”

“No, not really,” Zoro spoke, sipping from his bottle. “You’re a pretty physical guy. But with him it’s different. It’s more like you want to touch him more, but you don’t. You two pull away just when the other starts to lean in.”

“Yeah!” Luffy shouted. “He’s nicer to you, too.”

“Well, you guys are pretty difficult.” They both gave Usopp a long blank stare. “We bicker!” Usopp cried defiantly.

“You mean you flirt.” Zoro was not going to be deterred.

“I don’t think it’s—I mean you think I would notice.”

“Yeah, if you weren’t so dense.”

“Hey, I—“

“Resemble that remark?”

Usopp opened his mouth in rebuttal but closed it when he realized they weren’t very far off. He groaned and rubbed his face.

“He’s not good with words,” Zoro started. “He uses food because language fails him. So in that way food is a symbol of his love. And he gives you more than the rest. He lets you come and go as you please. He’ll make you special things.”

Usopp and Luffy watched as Zoro extrapolated a side of Sanji he had failed to put into words. The feeling was there, deep inside where thoughts aren’t yet words, yet Zoro pulled it out with ease. It looked simple and silly to Usopp, here in hindsight.

“You’re not just a meathead,” Usopp laughed.

“What I—”

“You don’t really hate him at all do you?” Usopp asked.

“Ha!” Zoro howled taking a long drain of his beer. “I do. That’s why I interrupted him when you guys were so close. I figured it was just another kiss between you two. Knowing you haven’t even kissed makes me more pleased.”

Usopp blushed.

He could feel Luffy and Zoro staring at him. When he chanced a look, Luffy and Zoro were giving him shit-eating grins. He tried to glare at them, but the effect seemed to just elicit laughing in them both. He picked up his plate of fries and bit into one, feeling the small crunch of the outer shell and the softness of the potato within. He ate in silence, letting the other two mutter to themselves.

“So why haven’t you guys?” Zoro asked.

Usopp shrugged.

“Must be his fear-of-intimacy-itis,” Luffy laughed, his hand stretching out for Zoro’s almost full plate.

“His panic-of-passion disease,” Zoro added, slapping the hand away.

“It’s a real love sickness!” They both hollered.

Usopp groaned aloud. “You both suck, you know that?” They laughed. Despite himself, he found it silly as well and smiled with them.

“You should just go up there now,” Luffy suggested.

“What?” He shook his head. “No.”

“Yeah, just go up there and kiss him.” Luffy pursed his lips and batted his eyes.

“I’m not gonna do that.”

His lips stretched out towards Usopp. He dogged and grabbed the elongated skin. Luffy made a vague attempt at pulling himself free. Twisting his head and leaning back. Usopp held on. A shadow loomed next to him, and he could feel Zoro leaning in, his face growing closer.

“Just a little peck,” Zoro puckered his lips. “Keep him interested.”

Usopp pushed Zoro’s face away from his.

“You’re both useless and unhelpful.”

The lips in Usopp’s grasp squirmed and he let go of the unusual feeling, rubbing his hand on his pants.

“Oh, Sanji.” Luffy attempted at sounding like Usopp.

“Oh, Usopp,” Zoro mocked from the other side.

Usopp stood up and began to walk away, feeling perturbed. “See if I ever talk to either one of you again.”

“Don’t leave,” Zoro’s remorseful voice stopped him. “We got a little caught up.”

He returned to his spot between the two of them.

“You’ll just have to tell us how it goes.”

Usopp gave Zoro a contemptuous look.  “Why would I tell you when you bully me this much?”

“So that does mean you’re going to!” Zoro triumphed.

He groaned and put his face in his hands. Yet Usopp knew that he would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of Chapter is from Tegan and Sara's "Closer"
> 
> I am happy to announce that I have hit over 100 kudos and 1000 hits! I never thought this fic would get such a positive reaction so I am pleased to say, "Thank you all so much." I am posting this a little early because I have to go to my (gulp and groan) family's house tomorrow. For those of you who celebrate Christmas, I hope you have a wonderful holiday. For those who have had a holiday pass, I hope they were stress-free and fun. I will see you all again on New Year's Eve.


	17. Walk Unafraid

Usopp and Sanji were making their way towards the docks in the rising hours of the morning. It was just before dawn when the sky was still blue before erupting into color; those quiet moments before the world woke and with it countless workers off to their duties and trades. There was the distant call of the washing ocean and the wildlife rustling awake – birds chirped and cats drifting out. They used that morning like their own personal escape, knowing humans existed but couldn’t find one around. They were content with just each other, knowing few things could drag them away.

Sanji’s cigarette smelled like bonfires and laughter. Usopp clothes held on to the lingering effect of booze-soaked bars. Both were still a little drunk, yet the chill in the morning air sobered them enough to keep their walking straight. But even still they found each other skirting in close to other another. In and away, in and away – knuckles brushing knuckles, fingers snatching arms, sides bumping.

“Come with me.” Sanji grasped Usopp’s arm with more fever and pulled him towards a side street. The path was empty yet the light from the rising sun was turning the stone to sapphire.

“I want my winning.”

“Right here?” Usopp proclaimed, and if he were soberer it might have sounded vaguely like a protest, but in his still hazy mind it was more a declaration.

“Yes.”

“And what is it?” He asked looking around, making sure they weren’t followed, so that he may hear the request in solidarity.

“A kiss.” Sanji asserted with a little more fire and radiance than Usopp knew how to handle.   The statement was a spark that erupted over his body, setting it aflame.

“What?” Usopp’s voice broke and was breathy all in one. How it happened he will never know. “Is that really what you want with your win?”

“It is.” Sanji’s hand reached for Usopp’s and Usopp let him.

They leaned into one another as if their sobriety had been compromised. Contrasting the cool air, their bodies were warm. Each one searched out the lighthouse that was the other, the signifier of safety and comfort; they sought the harbor of another. Usopp was almost ready to press flush against Sanji, but he wavered.

“No begging?” Usopp teased.

Sanji smiled. “I could if that’s what you really wanted.” His face leaned close to Usopp’s and when he could feel Sanji’s exhale against his lips he leaned just out of reach.

“What should that entail exactly?”

“Is there a prerequisite? Some exam I should pass to prove begging?”

“I could probably think of something.” Usopp pressed his body against Sanji’s feeling the stability and firmness of the body before him. He kept pressing forward until Sanji’s back collided with the stone behind him.

“I’m sure you could.”

“Ask me again,” Usopp said, his eyes trailing towards Sanji’s lips.

“Can I kiss you?” Sanji leaned down gently, his lips moving just before Usopp’s. He felt their presence, smelled the lingering tobacco.

He licked his own lips. “Ask me once more.” He hands coming to rest on Sanji’s waist. He could feel the tightness of muscles beneath his fingers. The shirt was rumbled but smooth beneath his touch. He pressed his thumbs into the flesh.

Sanji’s cheek brushed against Usopp’s his mouth close to Usopp’s ear. “Can I kiss you, Usopp.”

Usopp didn’t answer, just pressed his hands up the front of Sanji’s body. He continued his exploration. He trailed fingers over the collar that had been loosened at the third bar of the night.

Sanji’s hands heated his lower back. He leaned into the touch as his hands found Sanji’s night old stubble. His eyes found Sanji’s.

“Please,” Sanji pleaded. “Kiss me.”

And Usopp did. He pressed his lips against Sanji’s, chaste yet fierce. He held on to Sanji as he moved to deepen the kiss. Sanji’s body vibrated beneath him, and Usopp smiled into the sensation. He could feel his heart in ears and heat on his lips. Sanji urged to deepen the kiss, and Usopp opened his mouth willingly.

They stood bound to one another in the glow of the sunrise, kisses splashing against one another as hands were tethered to the other’s body. Usopp ran his fingers through Sanji’s hair and curled the strands in his fingers. Sanji’s hands grasped for all the skin it could reach, hanging on as if Usopp were a lone ship in the night and he had capsized.

Sanji turned to press Usopp against the wall, the texture sharp against his back. His knee bent and he could feel the pressure of Sanji against his thigh. He groaned into the sensation. Sanji took that as an invitation and slowly rotated his hip over Usopp’s. Usopp’s hands fisted tighter into Sanji’s hair and pulled his head away. He could see Sanji’s blown pupils with a hungry stare.

Usopp moved to meet him, pushing back against Sanji. The other man’s eyes rolled back slightly and his mouth parted. He groaned just slightly, but in the quiet of the morning, it might have been fireworks.

“Is this the kiss you wanted?” Usopp baited.

“Yes,” Sanji moaned. “This is what I want.”

Usopp leaned forward and planted a small kiss on Sanji’s lips.

“Your win only offered you a kiss,” Usopp said, breaking away when he felt the activity of the morning was progressing farther than he wanted.

“What do I have to do to win more?” Sanji breathed.

“It’s not about winning,” Usopp said, winding his arms around the other man’s chest, bringing himself to rest his head in the crook of Sanji’s neck.

“But if I hadn’t,” Sanji said, leaning back so he could see Usopp’s face, “maybe you wouldn’t have kissed me.”

“If I had won,” Usopp cupped Sanji’s cheek with his hand, “I would have asked for the same.”

Sanji smiled in a way that Usopp had never seen before. And he cursed himself for falling victim to hesitancy. What other expressions had be been missing, while bobbing around in uncertainty and doubtfulness?

Sanji leaned in this time, his body closing around Usopp’s. He could feel Sanji’s body shaking around his own. It was not like the quivers of passion, but of someone who is scared. Usopp tightened his grasp.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“I’m—” Sanji swallowed. “I am unused to this kind of comfort.”

“Would you like me to stop?” Usopp began to remove his arms. “Is this bad?”

“No,” Sanji whispered, leaning into Usopp more. “No, it’s not bad, it’s just different. Give me a second to get used to it.”

Usopp squeezed back. “Tell me if it becomes too much.”

“I will,” he confessed. “But just for a while, hold on.”

“For however long you need.”

And they stood together, riding down passion into prosperity. Usopp was cradled by a firm presence, and he hoped he was conveying the same. He turned to press his face into Sanji’s neck and took a deep breath. Sanji was familiar in ways Usopp couldn’t remember. With all their time together he was rarely close enough for long enough to commit to memory this scent, but in his recollection, he couldn’t find the moment he had categorized it as Sanji. There were cooking oils and tea leaves, wine and beer, and just the faintest tint of blood. He was tranquility and danger bundled into one.

Sanji released his arms.

Usopp searched the face for anxiety or distress but didn’t find any. The eyes were warm, his mouth softened by a smile. Sanji’s hand came up and touched Usopp gently. His expression deepened into contentment.

“May I kiss you again?” Sanji asked.

Usopp nodded and blushed just slightly, his drunken courageousness drowned by his earlier eagerness.

Sanji leaned down and placed a kind kiss on his lips. He could feel Sanji’s lips curl into a smile against his own.

The sun began its warm peak over the tops of the horizon and into windows. The town around them began to bustle and move. Houses that had felt empty and alone now had opened curtains and unbolted doors. They stood face to face as others began to skirt by.

“Perhaps we should head back,” Sanji said, turning towards the sporadic passersby.

“Perhaps,” Usopp mimicked back.

They moved away together after a moment of hesitation. Now that they had come together, neither wanted to move.

“Could I hold your hand?” Usopp found himself embarrassed to ask, but for some reason, he felt he should. Sanji’s face turned to his suddenly, but he couldn’t hide the faint pink that covered his skin. He nodded, meekly, Usopp decided, having no other word to ascribe to the look.

Sanji held his hand out for Usopp’s, and Usopp curled his fingers between Sanji’s, pleased to find the other squeeze back instantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from R.E.M's "Walk Unafraid"
> 
> I hope quality over quantity will be alright for tonight. This chapter is a few hundred words shorter than the others, but I am a firm believer in giving what feels right and complete. The Western New Year is almost upon us, so I hope if you're celebrating 2018 at midnight you'll be safe. For those who have to work tonight, tomorrow, or anytime, that you get to be well rested when it comes. May the new year bring you happiness and prosperity! 
> 
> I have more planned for this, but I am going to have to take a week or two off as I have some upcoming appointments and such that can't be rescheduled. Hopefully, this chapter will leave you content until then, or at least contented enough. 
> 
> All my best to you all! Thank you for your support over the last few months, I hope I will see you again. :)


	18. Life On Mars

Usopp stepped into the kitchen first; the other’s still asleep or pretending to be awake as they ended their night watch. He slipped up to the counter and sat. Sanji moved methodically as he made breakfast, his practiced routine down to a fine art. He broke eggs with one hand and flipped bacon with the other. When he had worked through a carton of eggs he whisked them effortlessly. His body was relaxed and at ease, embodying a habitat cultivated by passion and pleasure.

There was a harmonious silence of the early morning that slipped between them like a third companion. Usopp stretched and settled in. The smell of spices was mesmerizing, and the pop of meat on the stove beat a repetitious pattern he wanted to inhabit. A kettle was set and began to whistle. Sanji stepped away and pulled the crockery free of the fire, filling in the ready receptacle.

He brought the steeping pot to the counter and set it down before Usopp.

“Good morning,” Sanji said, leaning forward, pressing his lips against Usopp’s brow.

The kiss was surprising but not unappreciated. Usopp’s lagging brain couldn’t catch up to the sudden affection, and he sputtered out a quiet hello. Sanji went back to the stove and poured the eggs into a hot skillet.

Usopp reached up and touched the space lips had occupied. He smiled. Sanji had been doting Usopp with little kisses and touches over the last few days, and he was moved by the attention.

 

 

Sanji leaned against the railing near Usopp’s annex factory, shading himself below Nami’s trees. He was enjoying a cigarette as the ship coasted over quiet waters. It was rare for him to have enough time to mull around deck, so he grasped this opportunity with firm relish.   The old habit of smoking dulled his senses into a meditative state.

With the controlled inhale and audible exhale, he could swear he discovered and rediscovered god in those moments. The ocean was a perpetual master of being in motion yet still at the same time, he wondered if he could learn her techniques by sight.

He heard steady footsteps on the deck and knew it was Usopp’s by the slight bounce he had when moving with purpose. The steps were slightly heavy as if he was carrying something substantial, and Sanji figured he was planning on working.

There was a solid drop as a box fell onto the table, a quick rattle of mechanical parts, and then silence. The footfalls moved towards him.

A hand reached towards his mouth and he let the fingers grab the cigarette from his lips. He turned to find Usopp leaning into him.

Usopp’s lips were soft when they touched his. He pressed back. Usopp smiled beneath him.

“How’re you,” Sanji asked as the other man drew back.

“I’m fine, now,” Usopp pressed the cigarette back to his lips. “How’re you?”

“Better now,” Sanji replied, wrapping his hand around Usopp’s.

Usopp squeezed back and leaned next to Sanji, facing the opposite direction. They stood tethered to each other, enjoying serenity at the presence of the other. The two had slipped into a routine where they linked themselves together when they had a moment. Sanji enjoyed the ease that had moved between them since their first kiss, something he still thinks about in moments of downtime. They had yet to kiss as deeply or as passionately, but given their constant diverging routines, he was content with their fleeting encounters. But he would have loved another languid kiss.

“What’re you working on?” Sanji asked as he looked out towards the ocean.

“Nami asked if I could check on her sextant and slide rule. She says they’re off.”

“Off?” Sanji wondered, trying to unravel the single word. He took a drag off his cigarette.

“That’s all she could say,” Usopp sighed, rubbing his thumb along Sanji’s knuckle.

“Sanji!” They heard Luffy roar. “Can I please eat something now?”

“Been denying him food again?” Usopp laughed.

“Always.

“Off to work?”

“Off to work.”

“Best of luck,” Usopp said, fleetingly pressing his cheek on the other’s shoulder.

“I don’t need luck.”

Usopp kisses the jacket under his head. “Just the same.”

 

 

Usopp helped Sanji clean up after dinner. Robin and Nami enjoyed a calming cup of coffee as the other two seamlessly moved around the table. The women were chatting happily, occasionally stacking dishes, to which Sanji scolded them with the tenderness of care; telling them to relax, and enjoy themselves.

Usopp held out a few plates for Sanji, whose fingers lingered when Usopp handed off them off. He dumped the plates into the sink and turned catching Usopp’s brown eyes. He could feel his face soften and relax as he looked into those dark eyes. Before he knew it they smiled at each other, something coy and a little shy. He didn’t know what Usopp felt on public displays of affection, so he didn’t push his luck until he had asked. But as they brushed passed his hand found Usopp’s arm and dragged along as if afraid to part. Usopp settling the cutlery in, a warm feeling nuzzling in behind his ribs, spreading butterflies along his chest.

Usopp walked up beside Nami and collected what remaining cups were there. Sanji skirted in behind him to pick up a platter he had missed, but instead of moving around, he leaned into Usopp and pressed up against him – drawing close to the other’s warm body. Usopp held back a grin but could feel it beginning to tighten the corners of his mouth and crinkle his eyes.

“Hello,” Sanji whispered.

Usopp hummed back. When he looked up Robin peered over the rim of her glass and gave him a gentle smile. She turned away when Nami began talking again.

 

 

Usopp was slipping on his boots when Sanji opened the door to the men’s quarters. He was caught up in a thought and failed to see Usopp sitting on the floor lacing up his shoe, so Usopp watched as he mulled something over, stopped to fish for a cigarette and then light up. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Usopp finished his task and silently stood. He crossed the room on tiptoes and leaned around Sanji’s cigarette.

He placed a small kiss to the man’s cheek. When he leaned back, Sanji smiled with his eyes at Usopp. They were alone in the cabin, and as if the other would have it, they would make the most of their time.

“That’s dangerously like a bad habit, you know?” Sanji said removing the obstacle between them to kiss Usopp’s brow.

“If it’s so terrible, I could stop,” Usopp told him, planting a kiss on his lips.

“Never,” Sanji said, deepening the kiss.

 

 

Sanji could see an uncertainty in Usopp. It was a small movement behind his eyes that slithered across his brow when he was troubled.

“Are you alright?” Sanji asked, kneeling down so he could sit on the stairs to Usopp’s factory,

“I-um,” Usopp sputtered, dropping the sextant in his hand. “Yeah, why?”

“You do this thing,” Sanji began by leaning forward. He reached out and pressed a finger to push his knitted eyebrows apart, “ where your brow wrinkles.”

Usopp rubbed his face to smooth his expression.

“Tough job?”

Usopp shrugged and gave a stretch. “Just thinking.”

“Would you like to talk about it?”

Sanji watched as Usopp scratched his ear, and then massaged a shoulder. If he were buying time it was working, but Sanji was patient and would wait it out.

He reclined into the rise of the stairs and observed Usopp’s fiddling.

“You-“ Usopp began. “I mean that is –“ he picked up the sextant to fill his hands with something. “You like me right?”

Sanji straightened up as he heard the words. The other had his head tipped into his chest and wouldn’t look up at his confession, while a blush tinted his cheeks and chest. Sanji moved from his seat and perched next to Usopp at the table. He reached out and touched the other man’s chin, pulling it upward so he looked at Sanji.

His eyes darted between Sanji’s as he examined the unease and embarrassment in Usopp’s features. He smiled at the other as he removed his hand.

“What do you have concerns over?”

“You’re just, not like it’s anything that important, it’s more like, I guess it’s just that, I don’t really know how you, well it’s not like you’re doing anything wrong, I suppose I’m just being–“

“You’re saying a lot, but you’re not saying anything,” Sanji reminded him.

Usopp took a deep breath and let it out through his nose. He set down the sextant and turned so his body faced Sanji’s. He reached out and touched the back of Sanji’s hand. It was warm beneath his fingers. Sanji flipped over his hand, letting Usopp work through his thoughts with his presence. Usopp drummed a little beat against the flesh of his palm and then reached out with his other hand to pull and fiddle with his digits. Sanji smiled at it.

“You’re a quiet person,” Usopp began, still moving his fingers. “And I’m a loud person.”

He paused. The fingers on Sanji’s hand laid flat against his. He looked up to see Usopp watching him. The expression on his face seemed to be urging him to fill the silence, but Sanji didn’t know exactly what he was looking for.

“What are you saying?”

Usopp groaned and dropped his head dramatically into Sanji’s palm. He mumbled something into Sanji’s hand, pressing his forehead into it like a cat.

“I can’t hear you,” Sanji coaxed.

“I like you,” Usopp said.

“I know.”

Usopp sat up, his eyes pleading. “That’s not what you’re supposed to say.”

“What am I supposed to say?”

“You say it back, of course.”

“Of course,” Sanji laughed a little. He wasn’t aware that it needed to be discussed. They had been sharing acts of intimacy for some time now, and to him, that was all that was needed.

“It’s not funny!” Usopp laughed in return.

“You’re laughing,” Sanji said trying to control his grin.

“No, I’m not.” His face contorted to try and feign humorlessness.

“Then what are you doing now?”

“I’m being stern.”

“That’s a very loose stern.” Sanji smiled at him.

“Stop it!” Usopp chuckled and pushed on Sanji’s knee. “I’m serious.”

“I know,” Sanji’s hand rubbed down the other’s forearm.

Usopp looked at him again, his dark eyes peering at him.

“What would you like me to say?”

The look that Usopp gave him transformed into one of skepticism and bewilderment. “Come on.”

Sanji laughed at his own goading. “What makes you think I don’t?”

“Well—“ his cheeks puffed out as he pouted. “You never actually said it.”

Sanji blushed a little at the confession, even when he knew it was true. Just thinking about telling him made me mildly unsettled. For someone who could compliment women with ease, he found that in moments of true sincerity, not that the others weren’t, just different, he was – shy. He had forgotten that words would be Usopp’s preferred mode of connection, yet failed to give him that.

He pressed into Usopp’s space and bowed his head towards the other. “I do like you, Usopp.”

They sat there, each having confessed to their attraction and affection. Neither could think of anything to say that was necessary. Usopp reached back out and placed his hand in Sanji’s. Sanji closed his fingers around the others and gently rubbed his thumb along the back of Usopp’s hand, stroking the valleys of his fingers.

As the moment stretched on, Sanji picked up Usopp’s hand in his and brought it to his lips. He placed a kiss against the tough skin of his knuckles. He heard the other shuffle under the attention. He looked up over the hand, peering from his position.   Usopp’s face was soft and serene. Sanji wondered in that moment what his face looked like if he was dashing or simply foolish. He chuckled a little and sat back up. His free hand rubbed the back of his head.

“Sorry,” Sanji said. “Maybe that was a bit silly.”

“No!” Usopp all but cried. “It was nice. Thank you.”

“Thank you?” Sanji asked, looking at Usopp.

“Well, I mean, it was endearing and special.”

Sanji pulled Usopp’s hand towards him, dragging the man with it. They came cheek to cheek and Sanji pressed his lips against Usopp’s cheek, right below his eyes.

“How can I spoil you more?”

“Spoil me?”

“Yes, spoil you.”

“I guess, just keep doing what you’re doing.”

Sanji kissed Usopp again and again along his cheek and temple. The other giggled beneath him and seemed to squirm against the onslaught.

He slid his hands between them, pressing against Sanji’s face.

Sanji kissed the palm and rested his cheek in his hands.

“I’m sorry if I gave you unnecessary anxieties.”

Usopp pressed his hands along both of Sanji’s cheeks. He directed his gaze towards him. The light eye that looked back was a little nervous. Usopp looked down towards Sanji’s lips and in a breath, his lips were on his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from Seu Jorge's "Life on Mars" (a brilliant, brilliant David Bowie cover - if you don't listen to the songs I urge you to at least listen to this one!!!)
> 
> Thank you all for your patience! I am grateful you all have returned after I said just a week or two and it's been four. ヾ(_ _。） Life has a way of topping on itself when things get busy.
> 
> I hope this chapter fills a little bit of the emptiness. This style is a little different than the last few. I wanted to try something a different. I'd love to hear your thoughts on the matter, positive or negative! This work doesn't have a beta and all your insights are much appreciated, should I want to go back and move things around, or edit, or when I work on new things!
> 
> You're all amazing people, and I hope the new year has been pleasant to you, or at least it is manageable.


	19. I'll Keep It With Mine

Usopp hung around the port side of the ship, rolling a small navy box around in his hands. The sun was sinking towards the horizon, with still a few hours left in the day, he wasn’t certain he would get it done. This was the fifth attempt in three days, and he still was having difficulties getting rid of the box. He stepped forward and then stepped back. His hands held out the small palm-sized box and he went through the motion of handing it off. So simple, he had told himself over and over, and yet here he stood, still grasping the package.

He sighed and stuffed it into his pocket.

_Maybe tomorrow._

“What’re you doing?” Usopp heard.

He jumped into a spin, turning to see Zoro leaning against the railing behind him. A bottle tapped against his thigh, the picture of composed leisure.

“H-How long have you been there?” Usopp sputtered, pulling his bag so it covered the protrusion.

“I’m thinking about as long as you have been.” He took a relaxed drink of his beer.

“That’s not reassuring,” Usopp groaned.

“I wasn’t trying to be.”

Usopp squinted at him.

Zoro took another swig of the bottle and asked, “what’s in the box?”

“What box?” Usopp tried to lie. Zoro squinted at him in return – his stare much more effective than Usopp’s. “Nothing,”

“Nothing?” Zoro piqued.

“Nothing.”

“I’m not convinced.”

“It’s a new boshi!” Usopp screamed, clutching his bag as if it were the object in question. “I’m trying to make something new, something that explodes in a mist of haze and glory!”

“Show me.”

“I can’t! It-it will destroy this half of the ship. No-no. Nay, it will destroy the whole ship!”

“How does it work?”

“An explosion?” He tried to make the words not form into a question, but it landed like a dead fish.

“An explosion? Sounds so technical.”

“I dumbed it down for you,” Usopp boasted more confidently. “I didn’t want you to feel lost on all the jargon.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“What’s in the box, Usopp?” Zoro took a step towards him.

“Death,” his voice dipping into a lower octave to try and dissuade the other.

“What is,” Zoro took a step, “in,” another move forward, “the,” Usopp stepped back, “box?”

“What are you idiots doing?” Nami’s voice blocked Usopp’s retreat.

“He’s hiding something,” Zoro challenged. “I think it’s expensive.”

“Expensive?” Usopp could hear the Beri symbols burst in Nami’s eyes.

“It’s not expensive,” he said, trying to dissuade her.

“I don’t believe you,” her eyes glowing like the shiniest of coins and gold.

Usopp gripped at the object in his pocket, latching his fingers around the frame. Zoro and Nami moved on him as the most adept predators do, circling first, trying to block all exits, taking up as much space as possible. Nami’s arms bent at the elbows and Zoro took a wide stance. Both eyed him with as much interest as they did conquest. He would be no match for the two of them alone.

Usopp could feel hands grow out of his back and he knew he was in trouble. He looked over his shoulder and Robin’s long-fingered hands waved slightly before they commenced on tickling him.

At first, it was small, just trying to get him off guard, but the more he squirmed the more the fingers sought his vulnerable spaces. The spot above the waistband of his pants was the most sensitive, and if Usopp didn’t know any better, he could have sworn that Robin knew that. He giggled and shimmed, trying his best to keep from falling over.

Nami moved first, then Zoro a fraction of a second later. They collapsed into a pile on the deck, laughing, and rolling for the box.

As soon as Zoro caught his arms, Robin’s disappeared in a flash of pink petals. He gave up. Zoro grinned like a hyena, shoving his hand into the pocket. But his face crumpled when he pulled it out empty handed. Nami sat back quizzically, turning from one man to the other.

“Where did it go?” She asked with a feigned empathy.

Usopp froze. He looked down to his pocket, but could not see the square projection against the cloth. Zoro let go of his arms and they all began to search in earnest. They crawled around on their hands and knees, faces all but pressed into the grass.

Sensing it was not among them, Usopp turned to find Robin. She was sitting on the swing, the box placed gently on her knees. Seeing him, she smiled and pushed her self against the ground, gliding gently towards him and away. He stumbled to his feet, starting towards her. Nami zoomed by him, Zoro quickly at her heels. Hand to hand, the box moved away from Robin and into the tree above her, disappearing into the canopy above. She smiled at them all and continued to swing.

Zoro and Nami stopped at the base of the tree and looked into the branches, trying to find where the box had gone. Usopp swallowed. There was little chance that he could beat Zoro or Nami when they were this determined. He wrung his hands together. He shifted his weight from foot to foot. He turned to Robin fully. She winked.

Chopper pushed out from behind him, stretching into the sun as he moved. Zoro turned and ran headlong at him. Chopper tensed and watched as the swordsman approached.

“We need you for a second, buddy.”

“W-Why?” Chopper managed to squeak out before Zoro clasped the reindeer around his middle and hoisted him up. Zoro moved back to the tree with a renewed determination. As soon as he was beneath the tree he held Chopper up to the lowest branches.

“What do you want?” Chopper asked with skepticism but clutched to the nearest branch.

“Find the box.”

“What box?”

“Usopp’s box.”

“Why?”

“Because he won’t tell us what’s in it.”

“I don’t see why I should—don’t poke me in the butt.”

“Get going,” Nami said, pushing him onward with her staff.

He climbed into the tree and disappeared among the leaves. Usopp sighed and sat down. He was suddenly so tired that he no longer cared what happened. He pulled up a few blades of grass and listened to the group.

“Ouch,” he heard Chopper’s voice in the tree. Then he giggled. “Stop that!” His voice was shrill with laughter. “Cut it out.”

Usopp looked up. Hands came down from the leaves, dropping Chopper into Robin’s lap. She tickled him with her own hands and he squirmed in her lap.

“I don’t like this at all!” His anger masked by his highly amused face.

“Oh, I don’t believe you, little one,” Robin sang as she continued to tickle him.

“Come on, Robin,” Zoro’s voice grumbled as he bent down to pick up his discarded beer bottle.

“It seems to me,” she stopped tickling Chopper, “that Usopp didn’t want you to have that.”

Zoro mumbled something incoherent at Usopp’s distance. He took a drink off his bottle. Nami leaned on her staff and seemed unconcerned by their defeat. Usopp stood up and walked over towards the group. Zoro sat down and leaned against the bulk of the tree. Nami looked casually over to Usopp as if she hadn’t just tried to steal from him. The five of them stood in a lazy circle.

“So what’s in the box?” Chopper asked as soon as he could breathe again.

“Nothing important.”

“You’re really not going to tell us?” Nami asked.

Usopp shook his head.

She sighed but seemed contented enough. “But I really want to know.”

“It’s not mine to tell.”

“What does that mean?” Zoro asked.

“Just that, if they want to show it off, well then they can.”

“Who’s it for?”

Usopp shrugged.

“We all know who that means.” Zoro teased.

Usopp shrugged again but could feel a small heat rising to his cheeks. He stuffed his hands into his pockets to occupy his hands. Knowing the box wasn’t in his there still made him feel empty. It wasn’t expensive, nor was it irreplaceable, but it was semi-precious in its authenticity.

“Sanji made snacks!” Luffy’s voice roared from above. Chopper hopped off Robin’s lap and scurried towards the stairs. Zoro pulled himself up and walked with Nami. Robin stayed seated for a moment longer. She looked up towards Usopp.

“So can I get my box back?” He asked her.

She smiled. “No.”

“What?” He gasped.

She stood up and patted him on the shoulder. “Have fun.”

“But-I-What?” He stuttered out as she moved away from him. She waved to him from over her shoulder.

He looked up into the canopy and sighed. _Of course._ He chuckled and walked over to the branch Chopper had climbed up from and reached for the tree. The wood was rough under his hands, and he scraped his chest a little he pulled himself up.

All around him the leaves rustled with the soft breeze drifting in over the ship. An earthy smell wafted around him from the bark and he could remember the trees of home and felt a longing he had forgotten; it made him smile. He closed his eyes to picture the shore he left years ago.

Slowly, he opened his eyes and traced the irregular dotting of sunlight through the breaks in leaves. All the training had taught his eyes to pick out the smallest of distortions, but he was still having difficulties finding the box. Shadows popped in and out, waving and fluttering as he searched. The crossing of branches was an elaborate labyrinth of brown and green, the navy of the package was difficult to discern from the rest.

He climbed up and scrapped his ribs against the bark. Turning, climbing and twisting he made he way upwards. Then he spotted the small box and reached up for it. Robin had carefully hidden it near the top of the tree, gently resting in the crook of a branch. The outside was still whole, no dents or scratches on the exterior. He smiled at the package while it was in his hand again.

“Usopp!” Sanji’s voice yelled from the base of the tree. Usopp jerked and the box slipped from his grasp. He reached for it as it fell, could feel the softness of the boxboard as it drifted just past his fingers, slipping away.

The box bumped and hit against the branches, rustling leaves and disappearing from view. Usopp hurriedly descended the tree, catching the inside of his arms on branches, snagging his pants on new stems. He dropped from the bottom branches and fell on to his back when he unsuccessfully tried to land in a hurry.

Sanji was holding the box in his hand as if it had dropped right into it. Usopp stood up quickly and tried to grasp the box.

“That’s mine,” he cried as Sanji held it out of Usopp’s reach.

“Really?” Sanji asked, raising his visible eyebrow at him. “But it has my name on it.”

“Yes, but—“ Usopp said, looking into the eye that was glittering with a small pleasure. Sanji’s face folded into fondness and Usopp wanted to drown in that look. The hand came back down, and Sanji held the box out towards Usopp. He reached out and took it from Sanji’s fingers.

He rolled the box around a few times, suddenly self-conscious. He began to feel trickles of doubt rolling down the back of his brain, seeping into his entire body. The sensation left an unpleasant taste in his mouth that reminded him of mud.

Sanji’s hand reached up and pulled a small twig from Usopp’s hair.

“Why were you in a tree?”

“Zoro and Nami. Well, I guess it’s more of Robin actually. In a small part Chopper.”

“Did they force you to climb a tree?”

“No,” he laughed. “They just made sure I had to.”

“I’ll pretend I understand what any of that means.”

Usopp held the box back out to Sanji. “Here.”

Sanji accepted it willingly. He rotated the package much as Usopp had. He inspected the outside, but seemed hesitant to open it, Usopp was pleased at little at the hesitation.

“May I open it?”

“Um, I mean, yeah.”

“Would you prefer that I did it while you weren’t present?”

Usopp shrugged, but it felt more like a nod. He wasn’t ready to give the package away, so he felt unready to watch Sanji open it.

“Why don’t,” Sanji said, reaching out for Usopp’s right hand with his own, “we wait until you’re ready for me to open it then, hmm?”

Usopp smiled softly and nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Though,” he pulled the package back, “I am curious.”

Usopp’s face fell a little, and Sanji chuckled. “I’m just kidding.”

“That’s not funny!”

Sanji leaned down and placed a small kiss against Usopp’s cheek. It silenced him. “Would you like to join the rest of us for a snack?”

“Trying to win me over with food?”

“Maybe just a little.” Sanji smiled.

“Well, it’s working," Usopp replied with a smile of his own.

Sanji laughed a little. “Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from Susanna Hoffs' "I'll Keep It With Mine"
> 
> Thank you all for your patience with this fic. I am going to try and keep up a weekly schedule, but with my new workload, it looks like some chapters will have to be bi-weekly. Happy Losar and Chinese New Year to everyone. All of the comments have been a thrill to read, and I am still so pleased to see you commenting and kudoing. ヽ(^o^)ノ


	20. Nightswimming

Usopp was told to go to the kitchen, so that’s what he did. Only, there was no one else there, and that was unusual, normally there was always one other person present, not including Sanji. But here he was. Alone.

There were two places set at the table, and he stood behind them, trying to decide which one was right. There were two small plates with napkins folded beside them. It was oddly formal, and Usopp was trying hard not to read into that but was failing. He took the seat on the left as an invitation for him and sat. But as soon as he sat, the seat beside called to him in a mysterious way, so he moved over to that one, thinking maybe that’s where he was supposed to be. Then he looked back at the first. He moved back – this one felt better.

A clang, a small curse, and a thump echoed from the back pantry. He stood and made his way towards the sound. As he rounded the counter, Sanji emerged with a platter holding two small bowls. He spotted Usopp and nudged his chin towards the table.

“What is this?” Usopp asked as he retreated, looking over his shoulder to try and determine what was on the tray. “Franky told me to come here.” He took the seat he occupied just a moment ago.

“It’s a treat,” Sanji declared, the corners of his mouth pressing tight to keep from smiling.

“But it’s just the two of us?”

“I know,” Sanji said. “It’s just for us.” He set the platter in front of the two plates and took the seat adjacent to Usopp’s.

Sanji reached out to one of the bowls and moved it over to Usopp. The glass was filled with chocolate ice cream and what looked like fudge drizzled a pattern along the bottom of the clear bowl. There were lumps of chocolate emerging from the dessert. As Usopp was examining the treat Sanji set out a delicate long-handled spoon on a cloth napkin. Usopp immediately reached for the utensil, his hand colliding with Sanji’s in his excitement.

He chuckled out an apology but wasn’t too deterred in his consumption. The ice cream was smooth and velvety on his tongue, the chocolate rich and decadent. Sanji chuckled as he saw Usopp take another large bite.

“What?” Usopp said around his mouthful of food.

“That’s not how you’re supposed to eat it.”

“What?” Usopp asked. “It’s ice cream.”

Sanji laughed and took the spoon out of his hand. He set it down on the napkin.

“But there is a proper way.”

“Okay,” Usopp drawled.

“First you have to take your spoon,” Sanji lifted his own and pointed it at the bowl. Usopp felt a strange sort of warmth spread through his body; slightly like embarrassment, but more like endearment. Sanji continued: “and direct the fudge so it circles the entire bowl.” He pushed his own spoon into the bowl in front of him. Usopp watched. The spoon moved to collect the layer, forming a small moat of chocolate around the ice cream. “Then you have to make sure you get fudge on the spoon before you get the ice cream.” He demonstrated the next task. “Finally you have to make sure you have some chunk of chocolate.” He scooped a morsel into the mix. “Next, enjoy.”

He held the spoon out to Usopp.

Usopp froze. He looked at the spoon, and then looked back to Sanji. Sanji motioned for Usopp to take the bite. Slowly Usopp leaned forward and took the offered spoon into his mouth. He felt silly being fed, but it was an intimacy he could get used to. The mix of textures and varieties of chocolate burst on his tongue. He closed his eyes to the taste and let out a small moan. This was so much better than his first haphazard bites.

Sanji chuckled next to him. “That good?”

“So good,” he mumbled around the food, unable to stop from speaking.

“I’m glad.”

“Did you make all this?”

Sanji gave Usopp a resigned look.

“Of course you did,” Usopp laughed. He picked his spoon back up and followed Sanji’s directions. “But how did you keep Luffy from it?”

“Carefully.”

Usopp hummed a response as he coated his spoon in fudge. They ate in a comfortable silence, spoons clinking against the glass. When the ice cream was melting in the bottom of his bowl, Usopp scooped up the last remaining clump of chocolate and held the spoon out to Sanji.

He looked at the spoon a little apprehensively but leaned on the back of Usopp’s chair to bow in and take the spoon in his mouth. As Usopp pulled the spoon back, an unseen dip of the dessert spilled on to Sanji’s bottom lip. They both laughed lightly, and Usopp reached out with wipe it away with his thumb.

He stuck the digit in his mouth and watched as Sanji’s eyes trailed to observe the movement. Sanji was still close to Usopp and unthinking he closed the gap between the two of them. Usopp leaned into him and could taste the lingering chocolate on the other’s lips. Sanji’s hand moved from the back of his chair to the base of his neck, his thumb pressing under his jawline.

Usopp opened his mouth to taste more, finding a lingering tobacco taste behind the richness of the chocolate. It was a strange combination, but Usopp found himself intoxicated by the differences. His tongue traced the place where the drop of ice cream had been.

Sanji reached up with his other hand as Usopp scooted a little closer to him, his hands coming to rest on the other’s firm thighs. He kneaded the flesh under his hands as Sanji pushed to expose Usopp’s neck. He pressed a kiss below his ear. Usopp moved his hands farther up Sanji’s legs.

Sanji shivered beneath him, his legs moving just out of Usopp’s hands.

Usopp pulled back. As affectionate as Sanji could be, he was still the first to be overstimulated by contact and withdraw. Sanji smiled apologetically at Usopp.

“Did you find a better dessert?” Sanji teased.

“It’s okay,” Usopp replied. “There was this strange sort of,” he leaned back and tapped his fingers along his bottom lip as if he were thinking hard, “tobacco flavor. Might want to not put that in the recipe next time. I don’t think the others will like it.”

“I think you’re right.”

“What was all this for?” Usopp asked. “Trying to butter me up for something?”

Sanji laughed at the thought and shook his head. He sat back but stayed facing Usopp. He reached into his jacket for a cigarette, lighting it up immediately.

“Thought you might enjoy it is all.”

“Well, you were right.”

“I’m right, almost all of the time.”

Usopp gave his companion a doubtful look, but that didn’t dissuade him at all.

“Where did you learn to make this?”

“On the Baratie,” Sanji said behind a plume of smoke. “Well, that’s only half true, I guess.”

“What does that mean?”

“Zeff made it for me. And once I taste something, I can recreate it.”

“He made it for you?” Usopp asked. “Like for you, as in you the chefs, or for you as in for you alone?”

“Just me.”

Usopp smiled at the thought. There was coziness in knowing more about the history of the cook. While he was an obvious flirt and general gentleman, the acts concealed Sanji’s reservations like a curtain. Usopp was patient enough to let Sanji open up to him little by little. Each tidbit became a well-cherished and vivid crystal in Usopp’s collection of moments. Sanji always unveiled himself with modesty, a certain chastity, like the wisp of an ankle or the parting of a collar. To think of Sanji as a younger man, as a child even gave Usopp an understanding that can only come with time.

Sanji was a master of letting people stand beside him and never get to know him, so when pasts revealed themselves, the act was one of consideration and confinement. Usopp was passing by barriers Sanji had long created to keep others at bay. But even the gentlest flow of a river can wear down stone; Usopp had worn down one small creek.

“Zeff only made this for me on three occasions,” Sanji said, a small smile sprouting on his face. It wasn’t reserved at all and Usopp felt it like someone had poured cool water on a blister. “The first time I got a serious cut,” he rolled his hand to the familiar scar along his palm, “the first time I got a serious burn,” he motioned to a scar Usopp didn’t know or couldn’t remember along his upper arm, “and the first time I was heartbroken.” Sanji looked at Usopp with a somber expression.

“How old were you?”

“Which time?”

“All of them.”

“I think I was probably ten with the burn, twelve or thirteen for the scar, maybe sixteen when I had my first love.”

“What was their name?”

“Marie,” he took a pull on his cigarette. “She was with her family for a long dinner. I was so stunned. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. I spilled soup on her and she treated me like I was gold. I was crushed when they left.”

Usopp snorted a little, thinking of adult Sanji in a smaller body. Hearts exploding from his eyes and his blood pressure dropping to the bottom of the ocean. Sanji gave Usopp a chuckle.

“What about you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you, who was your first love?”

Usopp gave another exaggerated expression of deep thinking. Part of him wanted to say: _What makes you think it’s not you?_ But he expected that would cause Sanji to curl in on himself, so he decided to tell the truth. “Kaya.”

“Who was she?”

“She’s studying to be a doctor, last I knew, but knowing her, she’s a doctor by now. I used to tell her stories of grand adventures and she loved them every time. Growing up was hard on her, and I was able to ease her troubles for a few hours each day. She was my confidant and my closest friend.”

“The one who gave us Merry.”

“The very same.”

A loud crash and a joyous laugh interrupted the two. Both turned towards the door, expecting Luffy to barge through, but he didn’t. The noise happened again and it was closer. They both looked at the dishes on the table and formed a plan in silence. Together they collected everything listening for the emergence of another Luffy outburst. He was getting close to his evening snack, if anyone could call it that, Usopp considered it second dinner, and his desire for food outweighed his mental filter. Soon their quiet moment would be flooded with Luffy and the rest of the gang.

They dragged the plates with them, but when Usopp went to dump them in the sink, Sanji called out in a whisper.

“Bring it with you, he’ll suspect something if he sees them.”

“I’m sure he already suspects something,” Usopp whispered back.

Sanji pulled open the pantry door and Usopp slid in behind him, letting Sanji shut it behind him. The next crash was closer yet quieter. Usopp stood holding the bowls and spoons. Sanji had the platter, plates, and napkins under his arms. They both pressed into the door to listen.

“I know you’re here,” they heard him cry. “And I can smell chocolate.”

“He’s like a fucking dog,” Sanji whispered.

Usopp tried not to laugh, but it escaped anyway. He bent down and pushed his face between his knees. He set the bowls down and crossed a hand over his mouth.

Sanji stared down at him, but that only made the laughter worse. Sanji kneeled down and set the dishes aside. He leaned into Usopp and pressed his hands over Usopp’s. The man lost his balance and fell onto his back, Sanji on top. Tears were leaking out of Usopp’s eyes, and Sanji was having a hard time keeping his own laughter in.

It broke out and he collapsed on the other. They laughed at the absurdity of themselves.

Luffy pulled on the door, but because he didn’t know the lock he couldn’t get it open.

“I can hear you guys in there!”

“Yeah,” Usopp said. “We know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from R.E.M's "Nightswimming"
> 
> Hey everyone. So I meant to post this yesterday, but the day got ahead of me, so I thought I'd post it now before I turn in for the night. I am so excited to see you enjoying this so much, and if you haven't seen the comments from chapter 17 "Garoto de Ipanema", [Lampuu's work](http://lamppudraws.tumblr.com/post/171171106805) is super amazing, and I highly suggest that you check it out!!! I hope you all have a fantastic week, and I look forward to seeing you soon.  
> All my best, loves.


	21. A Hazy Shade of Winter

Usopp loved the cold. He loved how it pinched with icy fingers at his cheeks and frosted his breath when he exhaled. Snow has a habit of blanketing earth and dirt with a muffled down-filled layer, but on a ship at sea, the snow turned the volume down to zero. There was no lapping of waves against a hull, so spray of water tapping against the hull, all that was left was the minute plink of snow on snow – and Usopp had strain to hear that.

The sky was a pale glow of white, while the sea beneath the ship was a harmonious gray that clung with interested hands.   Snow floated down, flickering the screen of life with silent static. He floated above everything and was encased all the same. Usopp felt safe, secure – whole.

Chopper and Luffy were happily carving a trail through the deck, unveiling the green and brown beneath. There was no pattern to the path, but it would soon wind and twirl around the whole deck. They pushed the snow into balls and stacked them to make a fairly simple snowman. Usopp watched them happily. Luffy ballooned up his body and mimicked the snowman, sending Chopper to the ground in a laughing fit and a flurry of snow.

Usopp reached down, folded a pile of snow into his hands, felt the wet clumps form into the perfect snowball. He stood back up and looked down for Zoro, who was lounging around, watching as Usopp was. The swordsman’s face seemed torn between wanting to join the others and lounging back to enjoy the shenanigans. Usopp felt the need to interject his own form of fun.

Usopp lifted his arm, took aim, and threw.

The ball sailed almost invisibly in the falling snow. Zoro reached for one of his katanas and Usopp’s gut fell to the snowy expanse. There was no way that he wouldn’t get caught. He could see Zoro’s glare before it even existed and knew Zoro would run after him so he could shove Usopp’s face into a pile around him. But Zoro didn’t draw the blade, only rearranged the swords at his side.

The ball sailed on – hitting him directly in the face.

Usopp ducked down behind the railing of the upper deck, peering between spokes as he watched Zoro’s body tighten as he slapped at the snow on his face. Luffy and Chopper turned to face the swordsman as he scraped the snow away from his eyes. They looked between each other, deciding that the game was afoot. They scattered amongst themselves, trying to find the perfect defensive and offensive positions.

A cold hand pushed snow beneath the collar of his jacket. Usopp jolted to a standing position. Another hand pressed his mouth shut to keep the scream from leaching out. Cold dipped between his shoulder blades and down his spine. He squirmed against the hand; more into the cold than away from it.

“Seems a little unfair that you start this and yet stay hidden,” Sanji’s exhaled against his ear. The contrast between the snow melting down his back and Sanji’s warm breath on him made his mind short-circuited a response.

The hand moved from his face and Usopp spun around to see that Sanji had walked back into the snow and was gone before his eyes could catch him.

Snow pelted him gently from the sky above and a cluster smacked him in the back of his head.

He jerked back around, and the trio below him scattering around the deck. Usopp crunched his way to the stairs and pulled together balls of snow as he went, clutching them to his chest as he went. He tossed and dodged incoming clusters as he made his way to the port side.

Luffy was catapulting ball after ball, leaving barely enough time to find cover.

A pop of air changed the game. One ball hit the door of the men’s quarters with startling speed and a solid smack. The ball erupted next to Usopp’s shoulder. They all turned, watching as Franky’s open chest was being fed snow while his extended left arm took aim. The balls shot from his hand like a tennis ball launcher.

Usopp heard tiny pelts of rain and looked up to see Nami bringing heat towards her tangerine trees. She let the snow grow heavy and fat with water, and with a spin of her staff froze the snow again. The balls she made were half ice and Usopp was starting to regret instigating a snowball fight.

Brook was having a hard time keeping his projectiles together and instead turned to run around deck, sliding in and stealing others before bounding away. Robin had yet to lend a hand or two to the shenanigans aboard the Sunny, but Usopp expected she wasn’t as uninterested as it seemed. He still hadn’t seen Sanji reappear since his hand was pushing snow into Usopp’s jacket.

As the scene on the deck became wild and disorganized, with rules that were never set, the game turned into an all-out battle. He ducked, crouched, and avoided the ice balls from Nami as best he could, only to get one straight to the kidneys sending him face first into the snow. The hit bloomed into a rugged pain that he suspected would have him pissing blood for a few days.

He grumbled to a defensive crouch and slipped away from the main gallery of war.

Zoro had turned from making balls, to slashing each one that whizzed by. Chopper morphed from one point to another point, blocking, jumping, and even charging the companions on deck. Laughter filled in most silences, and shouting glee was just behind it. Usopp found a secluded spot right next to the kitchen to offer distance and surveillance. He switched from offensive to defensive.

His advantage offered him a glimpse of the whole ship. From where he crouched, he saw Franky approach Luffy, and Luffy’s eyes widen in glee. Usopp swallowed. That couldn’t be good.

The game pushed on, but something in the way Luffy and Franky avoided each other, made Usopp grow nervous. Franky pushed his way to where Nami was and he whispered to her. She smiled, and Usopp knew they were in trouble.

Luffy started pushing and collecting snow, forcing a pile around him as Franky made he way to where the other stood. Nami spun her staff above her head and brought in gusts of wind.

Snow whipped around them all with frenzy. The flurry became a blizzard and he could no longer see any distance. He reached out blindly, seeing with his hands he found a railing. His feet slid forward until he reached the stairs. He followed it with careful steps towards the main deck.

The sky was wiped clean as a whip of wind shot the clouds away.

Usopp saw them.

Franky and Nami were crowded around Luffy. They pushed and stuffed snowballs in a cavity where Luffy’s spine should exist. When Franky had used the snow around him, Luffy let the balls fly. It was a mad dash of arms and legs, trampling to get to some semblance of cover. The balls exploded in every direction. Some were small, no larger than Chopper's hooves, other were as large as Zoro’s head.

One hit Usopp in the knees, another along his shoulder. He tried to turn away, but when he did a couple hit him along the back. After Nami’s weather tug of war, the wood under his boots was ice and he stumbled, unable to get his footing. He slipped, felt his legs slide one direction as he body teetered the opposite. Usopp attempted to reestablish his composure, but he just careened more. He grasped on to the railing as a ball clocked him in the head.

He went over the slick railing.

The ice was hard when he hit, knocking all air out of his chest. Unconsciously his lungs gasped for breath and he sucked in a mouthful of salt water. He pushed around the pain, tried to fight the chill of the water numbing him, but this was a new kind of torture – one he couldn’t find purchase in. He flung out his arms and tried to feel for anything to grab on to. There was nothing.

He tried to calm his mind, but the lack of oxygen and the temperature were muddling all thought. His hands were numb in the cold and his legs were cramping inward. His body wanted to conserve heat and his mind wanted him to breathe. When he opened his eyes to get a baring the water rushed in with spikes of ice. Bubbles floated all around him, blocking his vision and distorting his equilibrium further. He cried into the pain, but that just let more water into his airway.

He couldn’t tell what direction was up and what was down.

His lungs burned and he couldn’t tell how long he had been underwater. Between the burn on his skin, the ache in his chest, and the adrenaline in his system, he couldn’t keep up with it all. He knew he could hold his breath long enough, but the cold would kill him before that. He opened his eyes and slammed them shut again. Trying to locate the surface of the water was a fool’s errand. He stilled and tried to feel with his body, sense where the surface was. He couldn’t sense anything past his nose. His clothes pulled him away from the surface.

Watery fingers found the last thread of heat and skillfully unraveled it from his body. He was sinking faster. The unceremoniousness of this death was worse than the cold. He was the reason he was underwater, under the ice, but he could feel the water leeching all sense of remorse. He was losing the ability to care about anything.

Then Usopp thought of Sanji – of their few careful kisses and their stumbling romance. Both were still hesitant to close in further, content with minor yet tender interactions. He wished he hadn’t been so delicate with his affection. But, as his mother used to say, hindsight was always 20/20.

A warmth started at his armpits and moved down his arms. It spread from the center of his stomach and moved towards his hips. He knew that when a body began to die from extreme cold, that the brain released endorphins to mimic warmth. It gave him a sense of ease in his stiff joints. To quicken the process he knew that sucking in water would kill him sooner. But he couldn’t get his mind to give up that much; something wanted to live a little while longer.

His voice called from far away, told him to fight more, but the warmth was much more enticing and provocative. It was safety and strength and if he could call it, a home. It sounded like his mother. It sounded like Sanji. It sounded like love.

 

 

Franky pulled on the rope attached to Sanji’s waist. The rest of the group watched as the bodies were pulled from the crackling sea surface. Sanji’s arms were clasped around Usopp as if he were all of the wealth in the world. He clutched to him with everything he could muster. Usopp’s body hung heavy in his grasp.

As soon as Sanji was in reach, seven pairs of arms stretched out to pull them onto the deck. Sanji searched for any life sign, any hiccup of breath, a flicker of a heartbeat, but he couldn’t find anything. Usopp’s eyes were half open and unresponsive. His chest didn’t rise and fall.

Nami’s arms were pulling Sanji back, but he couldn’t remove himself from Usopp’s body. He clutched to him as if he could push life back into his body.

“You’ve got to let go,” Robin’s voice cooed at him.

“Sanji,” Nami said, reaching for one of his hands, “Chopper needs to take him.”

He didn’t realize he was screaming – that he was shouting about Usopp’s lack of warmth and lack of pulse. He could feel his body shaking, his teeth chattering against each other, but he didn’t care enough. He could lose every finger if it meant saving Usopp’s life.

Zoro and Luffy wrapped their arms around the cook’s torso, and together with Nami and Robin, they pulled him off of Usopp.

He watched Chopper and Franky carry Usopp’s prone body away from him.

Sanji could feel the four pairs of arms on him, knew that each one was there for his benefit. They cared about him, wanted to keep him safe, keep him warm. Sanji heard Nami’s voice, could hear her unique cadence, knew she was telling him to get out of his wet clothes, to get warm, but even with all the arms around him, Sanji didn’t feel safe.

He let Zoro and Luffy lift him and carry him towards the men’s quarters. Luffy ran to get some towels but was cut short of his search as Brooke lunged in with an armful. Sanji’s numb fingers stumbled with the buttons on his shirt, so Zoro unbuttoned them for him. When he was down to nothing, the group wrapped him in towels and rubbed his bound body with caring hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from Simon & Garfunkel's "A Hazy Shade of Winter"
> 
> Hello again, everyone! I am so thankful for your patience over the last two months. A lot of things happened at once that kept me from being able to sit down with this work. I hope I will be able to get back to a regularly scheduled release. I have amped up the drama a little, in case you couldn't tell, so let us see how this shall unfold.


	22. I Am Too Weak To Be Your Cure

Sanji’s body began to shiver and he couldn’t tell if he was suffering from minor hypothermia, or if he was hyperventilating due to stress, so he let Nami, Robin, Luffy and Zoro warm him. Hands rubbed at the soft towel around his back. Fingers were strips of fire along his arms and legs. A connection formed between their bodies like tendrils that calmed his mind to the point where he could not tell which arms belonged to with body, or which legs were his. They were nothing but a pile of flesh with just enough hearts and the perfect sets of lungs. All the pain could be supported, as long as it was being held by so many.

After he had warmed up enough to stop shaking, warmed up enough to think, Sanji shrugged off the group and pulled on new clothes. Then he ran to the infirmary.

Chopper refused to admit him, doing his best to remind Sanji he needed rest. That any exposure to water that cold caused the body to experience shock, so he needed time to heal and more importantly, Usopp needed more time for treatment. Franky stepped between the Sanji’s sight of Usopp, and as he felt his temper rise. Franky’s sympathetic eyes stopped him short of erupting.

 _Please,_ he could read in the taller man’s expression. _We’re all worried. Don’t make this harder for us all._

Franky reached out and laid a hand on his arm. As much as Sanji wanted to recoil from the grasp, he couldn’t. Franky curled his arms around Sanji, burying the other man's face in his chest. The strong hand against Sanji’s head extinguished his rage.

“I need your help, Franky,” Chopper cut in.

“I can help,” Sanji interjected, stepping back from the embrace.

“No,” Franky told him. “You need to rest.”

“I’m fine,” Sanji replied.

“No,” Franky steered him towards the door, “you’re not.”

When the door shut behind Sanji, he slumped against the wood. Franky was right.

He wasn’t okay.

 

Sanji’s cooking duties were cut down to nothing as Luffy decided making port was their next course of action. Chopper needed supplies, and leaving the crew to take their meals in town gave Sanji the space to deal with his anxieties. The next few days were a repetitious pattern of pacing from the head of Usopp’s bed to the foot, sitting at Usopp’s right, moving to the left and when he couldn’t sit still any longer he’d start the sequence all over again. Pace, right, left. Pace, right, left. Pace. Right. Left.

Pace.

Right.

Left.

When his body could no longer deal with the stress of being awake, he would slip into a sporadic and unrestful slumber. He was hesitant to call it sleep, because he never stayed unconscious for more than an hour or two before he would awaken again.

Blearily and lethargically, Sanji managed to stumble away from Usopp’s bed – after Nami’s persistent hounding – to make a minor meal for the crew. She convinced him that he needed to do something with his hands, accomplish anything, no matter how small, to fill his mind with something other than the prone and pale Usopp. Even if it was just once a day, he needed to take a step back from Usopp.

But it was hard. When he pulled vegetables from the freezer, he felt Usopp’s cold body pressed against his. When he picked up a slab of meat he remembered the weight of Usopp’s lifeless body in his arms – how easily trivial moments turned into mnemonic memories. He dropped the items into the sink and pulled a cigarette from his pocket to calm his fraying nerves. There was pleasure in the heat of the lighter, the pull of oxygen and nicotine, and the exhale. It meant life.

Sentience.

He slammed his fist into the counter and felt the sharp pierce of pain shoot up his arm.

Tears watered his vision.

He was glad to be alone in the kitchen, so his torment could go unnoticed. He was awake when Usopp was not. He was moving while Usopp wasn’t.

The tears fell abruptly, effortlessly, and silently. He crouched down into himself. It was all he could do.

 

On the sixth day whenever someone entered the sickbay to check on Usopp, and subsequently Sanji, he gave them only the smallest nods in recognition. On the seventh day, he just turned towards them. The ninth day only his eyes turned towards them, and on the twelfth day, he ignored them completely.  

 

In the middle of the fourteenth day of pacing Sanji reached for a cigarette in his jacket, and he heard Chopper’s disembodied voice tell him to take it outside. Torn between a nicotine addiction and surveillance dependency, Sanji rolled the cigarette between his fingers. He traced the paper and filter and headed towards the door. Something to fill his hands, something to fill his mind.

He held the door as it closed and looked through the window.

Usopp’s bundled form was wrapped up to his neck. The blistering on his face was healing well enough and he knew that the frostbite was mostly superficial, but the fact that he was still away worried him the most.

Chopper did his best to reassure Sanji that there was nothing keeping Usopp from waking up, and to give him time, but Sanji worried that this was the last time he was going to see Usopp. He tried to recall the last conversation they had, but he did not want to be fatalistic and always cut himself short of reminiscing.

 _Just wake up,_ Sanji pleaded to himself, to Usopp, to God if they were real and if they listened to pleading, especially his. _Please. Please, just wake up._

Robin leaned on the wall behind him, her eyes tracing the fatigue and worry lining Sanji back. She folded her arms around her waist and closed her eyes, offering him her silent company. Should he wish to talk, she would be there. Should he want her to leave, she would – but she only after she made sure that was what he truly wanted.

“What do I do?” Sanji asked her in a voice just above a whisper.

She opened her eyes and saw that he had turned towards her. She examined his face more intently, looked into the one red-rimmed eye that peered out at her.

“There is nothing you can do,” she told him.

“There has to be something,” his voice began to rise. “There must be something out there that can help him. Some plant or place or, or – I don’t know. Something!” He threw the butt of his cigarette on the ground and slammed his heel on it, crushing and grinding it into the deck.

“Something that Chopper didn’t think of?”

“He doesn’t know everything!” Sanji yelled. “He isn’t perfect. There are bound to be things he doesn’t know.”

“True,” she leaned onto her shoulder to face him fully.

“So why are we here, why are we just at the port not looking for something to cure him?”

“Where would we look?”

“I don’t know,” he huffed, throwing his hands in the air.

“Have you noticed Chopper neglecting his duties as ship doctor?”

“No,” he snapped as he turned away from her. He gripped the railing.

“So what do you suggest?”

“I don’t know!” he shouted. He leaned back with his hands squeezing the wood. His muscles strained. He gritted his teeth. Sanji pulled against his hands and released the energy into the grain. He relaxed and leaned forward. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “I don’t know.”

Robin stepped forward and reached out for the white-knuckled grip. She pried his left hand free and wrapped her fingers between his.

“You’re not alone, Sanji.”

He turned towards her and looked down to their intertwined fingers and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. He reached with his other hand and placed it over their hold. “Then why do I feel so lonely?”

“Because you are.” She rubbed her thumb along his. “You are lonely. But you are not alone.”

“I don’t know if I have ever felt this way before,” he confessed. A small bubble burst in his chest that sent ripples of sadness through his body. Each day some new and unexpected emotion fizzled and popped in his core. What started as one or two minor pockets of emotions turned into a boiling cascade of feelings; he couldn’t stop them or limit them, and he spent each day with a simmering of unresolved and draining gush of feelings.

“You never have, and you never will feel this way again.”

“Will he wake up?”

She shook her head. “I can’t say for sure. But I have faith in Usopp. I have faith in his strength. He may not be the most powerful member of our crew, but I think, he is the strongest.”

“But what can I do?”

“Be strong for him,” she said leaning her head on his shoulder. “Be strong and wait for him. He would never knowingly leave you alone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is based on lyrics from Brand New's "Guernica"
> 
> Thank you all for returning! I am thinking of adding a few chapters to this story that would help, I think, with some flow issues. This may just be me, but as I was rereading the work I have had this feeling that it's missing a few things. So the next update may be more than one chapter. I will promptly let you all know. 
> 
> I hope you will stick with this work as it takes on a few changes, and if you have any suggestions, I am always willing to hear them. This is always a sort of work in progress, so I guess I am always trying to improve it as I go. And to know I have a willing audience helps keep me motivated.
> 
> Please bear with me as I work on this!
> 
> All my best to you. <3


	23. A Song of Despair

Usopp was seeing, but he wasn’t sure what he was looking at. There were undulations of blues, teals, and whites waving and crossing across his field of vision. The pattern did not fall over him – only along everything else. Over the plains of the deck, along the staircase and railing, it fell sharply over the edges of the ship and outward as far as he could see. There was no escape from the sight. It was a lot like being underwater, but he wasn’t sure he was. He couldn’t be underwater and not be inside a protective bubble. And he hadn’t stopped by to get a coating. He hadn’t been anywhere.

The ship was stable, solid as if it were beached at land; only there was no land around him. There was nothing – just the undulating ripple of color.

He moved towards the railing.

As he walked his body felt light and his legs swam him forward. He looked down and could see himself take a step forward. His foot lifted like normal and landed as it usually did, but he felt as weightless. He floated yet moved as if he were gliding.

He had to stop his momentum by grabbing onto the railing. What should have been wood felt like cool steel beneath his fingers. He traced the sensation and tried to recall what wood felt like, only he couldn’t. He peered down over the edge. When he looked for the cause of his stagnation, he could see nothing. Darkness deeper and emptier than any color was below him. When he looked up he could see the pattern permeating from above. It existed, yet Usopp could not discern a light source, but he knew he could see the waves.  

When he looked out to where a horizon should exist, where the waves should meet sky he could see the design, but when he looked down, they were gone. He knew it was impossible, yet he didn’t know the word to describe why. Point of view. Perspective? There was a word. A word? Was he thinking at all? He couldn’t tell where experience ended and language began. It was as if this place was void of his normal understanding.

Was he losing what he knew or was he unlearning what he thought he knew?

Usopp turned around and the environment around him flickered, moved, rolled away from him, yet he was still standing comfortably.

Perhaps he was just the ship. Or was the ship him? Was there a difference between them at all?

 _The memory of you emerges from the night around me. The river mingles its stubborn lament with the sea._ He thought. A poem that he once heard, or perhaps he had memorized it – it was just out of reach. Like a shimmering of fish just below the surface of the water, he knew they were there, but he couldn’t reach them from the deck. They were solid and intangible.

As Usopp took a few steps forward, the pattern of the waves around him shifted in his peripheral vision. It was not the same as the shifting had been, but something more towards rotating. He stopped and turned towards it, but nothing seemed to have changed. The pattern flowed and moved like an ocean current and was, to the best of his sense, the same.

_Deserted like the dwarves at dawn. It is the hour of the departure, oh deserted one! Cold flower heads are raining over my heart. Oh pit of debris, fierce cave of the shipwrecked._

He continued to walk – moved towards the head of the ship. Usopp didn’t know where he was going exactly, but he needed to move around. In a way, his body needed to move, as if the blood in his body would filter the haze in his mind and give him a clearer picture. His floating body moved with grace and ease. Each limb was relaxed. Each muscle and fiber of himself was tranquil and serene. It was soothing in so many different ways he had never experienced before. But before what?

He stopped.

Something pulled from the center of his chest. Yanked, dragged, jerked him towards something he could not see. It was firm and tight. It was tense and immediate. He dropped to his knees and clasped at his shirt. He couldn’t breathe. He wasn’t breathing. How long had he gone without breathing?

 _In you the wars and the flights accumulated. From you the wings of the song birds rose._ _You swallowed everything, like distance. Like the sea, like time. In you everything sank!_

He was all right. He didn’t need to breathe where he was.

 _It was the happy hour of assault and the kiss._ His mind continued.

_The hour of the spell that blazed like a lighthouse._

_Pilot's dread, fury of blind driver, turbulent drunkenness of love, in you everything sank! In the childhood of mist my soul, winged and wounded._

_Lost discoverer, in you everything sank!_

Something was missing from him. Something was missing from around him. Something was gone. He turned to look for the absent idea. There was nothing but the ship, the representation of waves. How did he end up here? How did he manage to steer this ship by himself?

He could not. A ship of this size, with masts and sails this large, he would need a crew to manage it. So where was the rest?

_You girdled sorrow, you clung to desire, sadness stunned you, in you everything sank! I made the wall of shadow draw back, beyond desire and act, I walked on._

He wasn’t a captain. He wasn’t a leader. There were others. There had to be at least one other. There was one other. Who? Who?

 _Oh flesh, my own flesh, man whom I loved and lost, I summon you in the moist hour, I raise my song to you._ Usopp could hear the words outside of himself. He stopped. They were close. Closer than they could possibly be in his isolation.

 _Like a jar you housed infinite tenderness. And the infinite oblivion shattered you like a jar._ When he closed his eyes he could feel their whisper of warmth along the creases of his ears. Along the side of his face.

 _There was the black solitude of the islands, and there, man of love, your arms took me in._ That voice!

That voice.

He knew that voice. Tears rolled over his vision and he wept. That voice. He pleaded to hear it again.

 _“There was thirst and hunger, and you were the fruit. There were grief and ruins, and you were the miracle.”_ The words were profound. They reached out and wrapped his heart with a fiery rope. Each syllable, each vowel, every consonant tightened.

“Who are you?” Usopp called out. “Where are you?”

_“Ah, I do not know how you could contain me in the earth of your soul, in the cross of your arms! How terrible and brief my desire was to you! How difficult and drunken, how tensed and avid.”_

Usopp spun when the heat on his face weakened, pulled away. He did not want to lose that heat, that passion, that tenderness. That love.

 _Cemetery of kisses, there is still fire in your tombs, still, the fruited boughs burn, pecked at by birds._ It was growing more distant. The voice more strained. He could feel the anguish in the voice.

_Oh the bitten mouth, oh the kissed limbs, oh the hungering teeth, oh the entwined bodies._

_Oh the mad coupling of hope and force in which we merged and despaired._

_And the tenderness, light as water and as flour._

_And the word scarcely begun on the lips._

The tears were stronger now, but he could not tell if he cried for himself, or for the voice, he could now hear. Did he weep because he was alone, or because the other was?

_This was my destiny and in it was my voyage of my longing, and in it my longing fell, in you everything sank! Oh pit of debris, everything fell into you, what sorrow did you not express, in what sorrow are you not drowned! From billow to billow you still called and sang._

_Standing like a sailor in the prow of a vessel._

_You still flowered in songs, you still brike the currents._

_Oh pit of debris, open and bitter well._

Usopp sank to his knees on the deck. Wrapped his arms around his core and wailed.

_Pale blind diver, luckless slinger, lost discoverer, in you everything sank! It is the hour of departure, the hard cold hour which the night fastens to all the timetables._

_The rustling belt of the sea girdles the shore._

_Cold stars heave up, black birds migrate._

He wanted to find that voice. He needed to discover whom that lamenting cry belonged to. Only he could silence that elegy.

_Deserted like the wharves at dawn._

_Only tremulous shadow twists in my hands._

_Oh, farther than everything._

 

“Oh farther than everything,” Sanji repeated, holding Usopp’s right hand with both of his. He leaned forward and pressed the back of Usopp's against his cheek. He could not keep the tears in anymore and wanted not to weep, but he could not stop.

“It is the hour of departure.”

_How long was Usopp going to be asleep?_

“Oh abandoned one.” His voice cracked. And inside him, another part of his heart broke. _Usopp. Usopp._

 _Usopp._  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poem and the title were taken from Pablo Neruda's work "A Song of Despair"
> 
> In case you couldn't tell by the title and the theme of the chapter, it's all about sadness. I was hoping to give you all two chapters this week, but I didn't get to finish the other. So the next installment will be that chapter, which will go along with a little bit of reworking and reorganizing of the previous chapters. I will also edit the notes of this chapter to let everyone know which chapter is new, and which changes I have made. 
> 
> I hope the last few weeks have been good to you all, or at least manageable for you. I look forward to seeing you all again, and I hope your forthcoming week(s), will be pleasurable.
> 
> All my best.
> 
> EDIT: I have updated this fic, just not from this point~ 
> 
> Sorry, everyone.
> 
> The new chapter is 11. As well as that, I have moved "Garoto de Ipanema" from the 17th position to the 14th. This flow seems to be better for me, but, as I am always trying to get everything "right" I may move chapters around again. I will let everyone know if/when those changes happen. Thank you all for your continued support, and I am sorry that I am not able to update this fic as often as I would like. I hope I will see you all again. (^-^)


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